Break-A-Leg

(D) Graey Festival

2011-04-24T15:07:00.003+08:00

The Graey Festival: An On-going Conversation
By Stephanie Burridge

Exploring, researching and interrogating the notion of ‘hybridity’ in dance is a hot topic in the region. Singapore has been witnessing a quiet revolution in this field with the emergence of the Graey Festival. Conceived in 2007 by dance artists Raka Maitra and Jayanthi Sivaperuman it is a week-long event where local and international dance and theatre practitioners present and share ideas in workshops, discussions, video screenings and nightly performances. Currently in its third year with Maitra continuing as Artistic Director, the Graey Festival has made Singapore a platform for exploring notions of hybridity in Asian dance.

Read more in http://www.asiadancechannel.com/.

(D) Smt. Vyjayanthi Kashi - Honoured Artist

2011-04-23T08:55:00.003+08:00

Smt. Vyjayanthi Kashi, Kuchipudi exponent was honored on 3rd April 2011 in Mysore by His Excellency H R Bharadwaj, the Governor of Karnataka for her outstanding contribution to Kuchipudi. It was on the occasion of the Vasundharotsav Dance Festival.

Vyjayanthi Kashi is popularly known as the dynamic force in Kuchipudi. For nearly three decades now she has been instrumental in preserving and spreading Kuchipudi around the globe. Her performances and workshops has inspired many a dance aspirants.

(D) Bodies Across Boundaries

2011-04-23T08:49:00.003+08:00

Bodies Across Boundaries presents two new contemporary dance works by acclaimed malaysian choreographers Amy Len and Suhaili Ahmad Kamil, performed by a group of powerful young Australian dancers. The show also includes two contemporary dance works performed by talented Malaysian Hii Ing Fung, Stephanie Lim, An Nur Azhar and Bilqis hijjas, and created by Australian artists who have been in residence at Rimbun Dahan.

8.30pm Friday 22 April, Saturday 23 April3pm Sunday 24 AprilThe Actors Studio, Rooftop at Lot 10 Shopping Centre, Jalan Sultan IsmailTickets: RM 35Call for bookings or walk in toThe Actors Studio @ Lot 10 Tel : 603-2142 2009 / 603-2143 2009klpac @ Sentul Park Tel : 603-4047 9000 / 603-4047 9010

(D) AsiaDanceChannel Vol 2, No.2

2011-03-06T22:44:00.004+08:00

AsiaDanceChannel Magazine's latest issue is out! Get a copy from http://www.asiadancestore.com/ or at major bookstores in Malaysia and Singapore.

2011-02-04T23:24:00.005+08:00

Photography by Ringo Chan

With powerful, exquisite choreography by Rolex protégé Sang Jijia, featuring cutting-edge lighting and video design and live electronic music by Dickson Dee, As If To Nothing examines the passage of time and the impermanence of memories with impeccable taste and style.

About the Choreographer: Known for his powerful technique, award-winning choreographer Sang Jijia has carved a remarkable career in dance - acclaimed as Guangzhou's "Star of the Century", he was notably mentored by William Forsythe, one of the world's foremost choreographers, under the prestigious Rolex Mentor & Protégé Arts Initiative.

Don Quixote and International Ballet Gala

2011-01-10T10:54:00.004+08:00

(D) Tribute to Kazou Ohno, Butoh Legend

2010-09-16T00:17:00.004+08:00

On 1 June 2010, Kazuo OHNO, co-founder of Butoh passed away at the age of 103. His work has inspired several generations of artists and audience alike. After his passing the global Butoh community mourned wondering what to do, what was the future for Butoh. Many felt as though something should be done to honour his gift to this life. So, on 21 August 2010, Democrazy Theatre Studio, Butoh Co-Op presented a Kazuo OHNO Tribute performance and a workshop entitled “The Body in Time and Space” by international artists to honour their sensai.

The artists wereJoao Roberto de Souza(Brazil), Terry Hatfield (USA), and Ampinee Suwunsawet (Thailand). There will be another series in December featuring artists Michael Sakamoto (USA) and Rocio Fernandez Fraile (Spain).

"Every time we say goodbye
I die a little
Every time we say goodbye
I wonder why a little
Why the Gods above me
Who must be in the know
Think so little of me
They allow you to go..."
(Cole Porter)

Celebrating Malaysia Day with Wayang Kulit

2010-09-15T23:36:00.001+08:00

A Wayang Kulit performance by the renowned Kumpulan Wayang Kulit Anak Baju Merah from Machang, Kelantan will be held in conjunction with the MALAYSIAKU: CELEBRATING MALAYSIA DAY festival.

Led by Kelantan’s most popular Dalang, Saupi bin Isa and drummer Abdul Rahman bin Dollah, this wayang troupe are heirs to the late, legendary Dalang Abdullah Ibrahim (Dollah Baju Merah).

This performance is also being held to commemorate the fifth anniversary of the passing of Dalang Dollah Baju Merah.

Details of the event:
Venue: Jalan Bangkung, Bangsar
Time: 9pm
Date: 16.09.2010

The MALAYSIAKU: CELEBRATING MALAYSIA DAY festival is organized by a group of Malaysia, who care deeply for the country and believe that this country is “My Malaysia” (Malaysiaku) for all Malaysians.

Through exhibitions, talks, discussions, performances, poetry reading, art, music, books, food, and other ways, the festival celebrates all that is unique and beautiful about this country.

(D) Final Showcase of SPROUTS 2010

2010-09-15T20:12:00.004+08:00

Winner of SPROUTS 2009, Gianti Gadi

After a vigorous pre-selection process and Preliminary Round, 8 promising individuals will have yet another taste of the limelight for the Final Showcase held on 18 September 2010, 7.30pm at the University Cultural Centre Theatre.

The 8 final contestants - Phua Chiu Teng, Rebecca (26 years old),Chen Guohu, Max (26 years old), Cheiw Peishan (27 years old), Fan Yaohong, royston (33 years old), Basu Mallick Koustav (25 years old), Fong Huey Jun, Liz (27 years old), Tan Ting Feng, Kenneth (23 years old) and Tan Xian Lin, Seren (20 years old) are nothing short of talented individuals. All presented contemporary dance works, and one Chinese traditional folk dance.

The jury will also be graced by international talents like Bilqis Hijjas, a well-known Malaysian dance producer, Claire Sung, Senior Manager of International Programming for the Seoul Performing Arts Festival and Yang Mei Rong, a lecturer at Taipei National University of Arts. The jury is also made up of local industry leaders and creatives, such as Mr Janek Schergen, Artistic Director, Singapore Dance Theatre, Ms Norhayati Yusoff, Arts Programmer, Esplanade and Ms Gillian Tan, Dance Lecturer, Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts.

Proudly organized by the National Arts Council (NAC) together with Frontier Danceland, SPROUTS provides a platform for debuting fresh and exciting choreographic works by budding choreographers.

Previous winner of SPROUTS 2009, Gianti Gadi, will also perform her new work during the Final Showcase of SPROUTS 2010.

An array of exciting opportunities and prizes await the winner of the “Most Promising Work”– a cash prize of $2000, along with an Arts Professional Development Grant of up to $3000 to pursue further training in dance choreography. The lucky individual will also get to perform a new or expanded work at the Finals of the next edition of SPROUTS.

Winner of “The Most Popular Work”, determined by audience votes, will stand to win a cash prize of S$1000, while “Best Dancer” will receive a cash prize of S$500.

In addition, 2 SPROUTS participants will be selected to receive scholarships to Contact 2010 – A Week of Dance, organized by T.H.E Dance Company in partnership with National Arts Council and co-presented by the National University of Singapore, and Centre for The Arts held at the University Cultural Centre.

Admission to the Final Showcase is open to public. Ticketing information and prices are available through SISTIC at $15 and $10. Schools may use the Tote Board Arts Grant in purchasing tickets. Limited 50%-subsidised Keppel Nights tickets are available. Visit http://www.keppelnights.com/ for more information.

Dentyne ConfiDance Movement Grand Finals

2010-08-20T15:41:00.004+08:00

Opening act performed by Dentye dance partner
and founder of Urban Groove JoelTan and his team

Ms. Yee Pek Kuan, Group Brand Manager of Cadbury

and grand prize winners Votion Force

(D) Balik Kampung - 8 August 2010

2010-08-15T10:48:00.003+08:00

Exciting show by trio on brief balik kampung

Three Malaysian talents show exciting potential at a show designed to welcome their brief return.

BALIK KAMPUNG
Aug 4-5,
Experimental TheatreAkademi Seni Budaya dan Warisan Kebangsaan

ASWARA’s Faculty of Dance, supported by MyDance Alliance, recently produced a contemporary dance performance to celebrate the Balik Kampung of its diploma graduates. The three, now full scholarship holders for Bachelor of Arts programmes, are home for the summer holidays and what better way to let the public glimpse their potential than through a performance.

The works are not about “returning home” but a series of solos and group works created by the young artists about themselves.

On that note, it would seem that Liu Yong Sean’s works, Uncertain Love and A Million Kisses to Your Skin, implied that the young man faced a relationship problem, though I could be wrong.

The former is a male solo, and the better work of the two. Uncertain Love opened with an aura of mystery with traditional singing matched by Liu’s contorted movements and hand gestures that lent only a hint of Khon or traditional Malay dance.

It was not clear if a cross-cultural schema was intended as those gestures did not reappear. For most part, Liu maintained his position within a horizontal line backstage. And when he finally left his comfort zone, he motioned his hand as if opening a door into another world.

Exploring a whole new space, he included little details into the dance that filled up every moment and pleasantly engaged the eye. At the end, he even threw in bits of acting with a fearful expression and used his hands to ward off something unseen at face level.

In this piece, Liu proved the strongest dancer of the evening, having fulfilled the criteria required of a solo artist – technical competence, grace, strength and charisma.

Choreographically, the piece conveyed uncertainty in the new world of love and fear of commitment.

A Million Kisses to Your Skin mashed a million ideas into one dance.The piece attempted to explain “something that’s not meant to work”, ironically, through a choreography that didn’t quite work.

The performance featured snippets of Fame, High School Musical, J-Pop club dancing, Michael Jackson’s Thriller MTV and even Malay theatre. Liu used text to explain away the trouble with the world today, and further illustrated choreography with cooking – that one can’t cook something that pleases everyone. Although the piece was fun to watch, it was conceptually puzzling.

The best choreography of the evening was Jame Kan’s Utopia. The word was coined by Sir Thomas Moore for his 1516 book of the same title, to describe a fictional island with a perfect society. Of course, Moore was utilising the concept as allegory and did not consider such an ideal place/society to be realistically possible.

Kan’s Utopia was simply a ray of light barely squeezing itself into a miserly spotlight at the front of stage. Throughout the dance, one or two dancers, hungry for a dose of hope, would make their way towards the spotlight, only to return, whether by force or by self-persuasion, to the group or “society”.

The conformist and the rebel are evident in society, as can be clearly seen in formations where one dancer is always isolated from the group. Kan orchestrated the group work like a well-timed musical fountain, maintaining group musicality with the constant crouching and rising movements.

The dancers took the mid-height as a place of retreat after rising or stooping, either individually or in unison. The middle ground that they took relayed the strength of the conformist position. Holding their stomachs and gyrating in pain, the dancers moved backwards disappearing into the darkness, as they hush-hushed any dirty secrets into oblivion.

In Utopia, I was convinced of Kan’s maturity as a choreographer, the way he used dance as a social voice.

His second piece, She, was somewhat underdeveloped and overly prop-dependent. Supposedly “a story about her”, the choreography actually reveals very little about the supposed subject.

Kan got it right by using a strong red theme in both costume and prop. The red cloth is symbolic of celebration in Chinese culture and it decorates the home on auspicious occasions. I liked the idea that “she”, dressed in red, is a celebration of life. However, as the dance went on, the relationship between “her” and the red cloth failed to be autobiographical in any way.

Lee Wen Yan’s rather ambiguous -ing, was a female duet that mostly walked and jogged stiffly side-by-side in circles. The dancers, looking like cone-headed aliens in their red hoods, were emotionless and somewhat mechanical in their demeanour. The dance ponders where one is going and seems to be lost. Although it gets the message across, the lacklustre approach diminishes its entertainment value.

Besides the graduates, Aswara students Fione Chia Yan Wei and Denny Donius presented noteworthy choreographies.

In Shape, a solo performed by Kan, Chia questions whether we, as humans, shape events or is it the other way round. The answer is both.

Chia first choreographs movements defined by shapes (circle, square and rectangle) created by lighting. In the circle, Kan moves in graceful, circular motions, which are sometimes reminiscent of tai chi. His eyes are fixated on his hands, which lead his movements.

In the square, Kan drew straight lines by flexing his body and rolling about, outlining the shape of the box. In the rectangular box, he ran from one end to the other, while stretching out his hands and legs – attempts to reach both ends of the rectangle.

In the conclusion, all three shapes appear at once, but Kan dances outside them. Finally, we see deliberate movements that are not defined by shapes.

This was an enjoyable piece with thematic clarity, poetically performed by Kan and easily understood by the audience.

Denny Donius danced his own choreography, Hometown, a melancholic and nostalgic solo. He created the right mood and expressions and used his body entirely and wholeheartedly to speak of the love and memories of the place he calls home. As he disappeared backstage into the darkness, a sense of longing lingered in our minds long after this beautiful solo had ended.

I was very excited about our home-grown talents and the potential they showed. But will they balik kampung when they graduate, or will they find appeal and better prospects on the international stage?

Well, I have yet to hear of talent-drain prevention programmes here.

Yuuki Mori - Rising Star in Japanese Contemporary Dance

2010-02-26T19:16:00.002+08:00

Happy Chinese New Year!

2010-02-14T10:01:00.003+08:00

AsiaDanceChannel Magazine, 1st Issue!

2010-01-16T21:24:00.005+08:00

Finally, the first regional dance magazine for Asia - one that would truly give more exposure for Asian dance and dancers!

Now available in major bookstores and newstands in Malaysia nationwide or purchase online at www.asiadancestore.com.

(D) Re- Parts I, II and III (da:ns Festival 2009)

2010-01-02T22:52:00.010+08:00

Re- Parts I, II and III
Shen Wei Dance Arts
da:ns Festival 2009
Esplanade, Theatres on the Bay
31 October 2009

By Choy Su-Ling

Photographs: Courtesy of Esplanade Ltd Co.

It is exciting times for performing arts in Southeast Asia when such an acclaimed name as Shen Wei premiers. Re- Parts I, II and III, a festival highlight, was created in response to Shen Wei’s journeys in Tibet, Cambodia, and China between 2005 and 2008.

China-born and New York-based Shen Wei studied Chinese Opera from the age of nine. In 1991, he became a founding member of the Guangdong Modern Dance Company, the first modern dance company in China. In 1995, he moved to New York to study, and later (2000) he formed Shen Wei Dance Arts (SWDA). The choreographer- director-dancer-painter-designer is widely recognised for his defining vision of an intercultural, interdisciplinary, and original mode of movement-based performance. And, he has received too numerous recognitions, awards and commissions (the latest being the Opening Ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympics) to mention.

On the large Esplanade proscenium, Shen already sketched a larger-than-life Tibetan mandala as audiences began to trickle in for Part I. The geometric shape becomes more defined as dancers, some sitting and some kneeling, and those walking about slowly, continuously sprinkled white confetti on the floor. This tedious construction was soon undone by the very same creators in hushed gliding and sweeping movements to the rhythm of their own breathing; and in the process, raising a storm of “snow”. The travelling across the “snow” has a floating quality, not unlike those in traditional Chinese dance. When the whole backdrop became a video wall of clouds, the stage was instantly “elevated” and the dancers seemed to be dancing on snow-capped mountains. Set to music of exiled Tibetan nun, Ani Choying Drolma, the dancers immerses in a meditative mood. As if dancing the breathing technique of qigong, the dance is very much like quiet breathing. The secret to the fluidity lies not only in the graceful restrain, but most critically, in finding the right and precise moment of release; the relief, the exhale. The second soloist in this piece was exceptional in doing so. While some made best efforts, a few dancers were too stiff for this temperament. These actions of weightless dropping and rising, and turning at mid-height, were no doubt mesmerizing; but it went on and on, leaving a conclusion wanting.

In contrast, Part III chugs along like a train charging across industrial and urban landscapes. Everything in this piece projects a progressive China; almost like watching a propaganda video for aggressive growth. Those who do not keep up or oppose to this development are “tossed about” within an impenetrable forward-moving phalanx formed by dancers, dressed in green, and marching militaristic-style, advancing resolutely with building momentum towards gains of economic power. But then, Shen sneaks in an element of caution, warning of the dangers of moving ahead too fast. Those who buy the propaganda soon find themselves like mechanical robots as depicted by the stiff marionette-like and staccato movements to the artificial tinkling sounds of music box music and the tick tock of Fayolism. In the partnering sections, we see pairs leaning against each other as they pushed themselves upwards like high-rise buildings. It’s a fragile dependency and the dancers soon fall like crumbling buildings. To reflect the darker side of progress, dancers change into black costumes and the silhouette skyscrapers in the background stretches gradually into indistinguishable vertical charcoal strokes. Shen’s warning is not headed. In the end, dancers stood in a file to cartwheel two dancers flipping them like wheels of a brakeless train.

Aesthetically, Part II is sculpturesque, visually showing Shen’s awe of Angkor Wat’s ancient splendour and timelessness. Light-footed dancers dressed in royal blue and purple flit like little birds against the backdrop of a blown-up image of the temple surrounded by thick foliage. They travel horizontally across the stage in a perpetual link, each dancer always using some part of their body to “catch” one another; all this to the peaceful soundscape of birds chirping and the distinctive rings of the nattuvanar’s cymbals, a reference to Hinduism. As they did so, a belt of traditional motif and temple engravings run across the backdrop. The first half of this piece has an endearing crispness in the well-coordinated group work, which is interspersed with movements that has a melting quality. On the other hand, the concluding scene was simply a vision to behold. Although this part of the world is less comfortable with nudity, there was nothing lewd about Shen’s human sculptures. He laid out a sensual display of dancers with painted bodies luxuriously outstretched and with their heads dropped way back in hiding. The dancers basked under the spotlights in a pose that reminds of the thick tree roots that protrude proudly on the temple grounds.

Re- Parts I, II and III was successful in demonstrating Shen Wei’s artistic originality and each “part” fully justifies his talent for creating unique movement language. However, as a whole, the piece fails to deliver the “re-“, which was supposed to “…invoke concepts of return, reconsideration and renewal.” With this point sorely missing, I left the theatre feeling a tad disappointed. But then again, it could just be my inflated expectations.

(D) Jamu 2009

2009-11-04T00:17:00.002+08:00

Jamu 2009
ASWARA, Kuala Lumpur
22 – 25 October 2009

This year’s JAMU was a four-day affair with a long list of contemporary line-ups simply split into ‘Program A’ and ‘Program B.’ JAMU is an annual contemporary dance production of the National Arts, Culture and Heritage Academy (ASWARA) featuring choreographies by the school’s dance lecturers and tutors.

Having followed almost all of the schools’ earlier productions including AWAS (2003) and the earlier JAMUs since 2005, JAMU 2009 finally displayed a crystallized Malay identity that melds smoothly into the contemporary dance form.

Wayang Orang by Mohd Seth Hamzah drew inspiration from our Wayang Kulit art form, creating dance emulating stiff puppet movements. Instead of the puppet ‘dancing’ behind the white screen, we see the shadow of a man dressed as a puppet acting the part of the real puppet. This concept revealed a unique reversal of characterization – puppets are usually created after human characters, but now, man reinvents himself as a puppet. This reinvention comes with the emancipation from the dalang as the man is free to move as he pleases. The stage was also decorated with white curtain strips from which dancers emerge to form two clearly delineated group works. The female group were gentle and graceful in their movements and seemed not to be in a hurry at all, while the male group provided the contrast with strong dynamics, befitting the Silat warrior.

When the film Perempuan, Isteri dan … featured the practice of nasi kangkang, a control spell cast on an unfaithful husband with the aid of a bomoh (witch doctor), it caused quite a stir. In this practice, the woman squats over a steaming pot of rice during the time of her menstruation, and then feeds her husband. Whether the spell works or not is debatable. Perhaps it is precisely this controversy that intrigued Aris Kadir enough to explore this topic in his dance Nasi Putih. The sarong- clad cast was predictable, featuring the long-suffering wife, the adulterous husband, and the temptress. Despite its also predictable storyline, the choreography, especially in its duets, explored quite thoroughly the various innuendos lurking in a triangular relationship including sexual tensions, sexual intimacy, male (gender) domination, domestic disputes, and rivalry amongst women.

Visiting Professor from the University of California, Wendy Rogers presented KL/CA Mix, a piece that is visibly different from her earlier Duet En Plein Air in which she performed with Jennifer Twilley at Lepas, Tetap Menari earlier this year. This piece explores chaos and order. We see how human structures ‘break from the line,’ and then, like karmic destiny, falls back into place/in line in a fluid, continuous momentum. KL/CA Mix displayed Rogers’ ability to create structures while giving dancers a free hand to develop their own movements.

Wong Kit Yaw takes more artistic liberties than he could in the still running Chinese musical I Have a Date with Spring by Dama Orchestra in Revisited. Wong’s tendency towards Chinese sensibilities in his works is apparent. Set against the 60s backdrop, he celebrates the female ethos of that era in a reminisce mood. A video plays in the background featuring a dim, smoky, collage of scenes taken from In the Mood for Love, a 2000 Hong Kong film set in the same era, directed by Wong Kar-wai; while at front of stage, the dancers distinguished themselves donning bright red or blue cheongsam and holding a pretty, dainty fan. The choreography was primarily group work sprouting effeminate gestures and small, subtle movements. A voice-over repeating the words ‘yesterday’s yesterday…’ in Mandarin became a constant reminder of the glorious years of past. In this piece, Wong did not focus on technique but on dramatic expression; and combined these with brilliant artistic direction that transports us into the past.

Of all Vincent Tan’s works I’ve watched, Autumn is the piece I enjoyed most. Light-hearted, playful, funny and colourful, the piece evoked the mood of a carefree, happy Sunday. Tan works with an all-male team to reflect on his cheerful youth. Each dancer had a unique character and the male-bonding did not miss boys’ disgusting traits and doses of cheeky nastiness in their interaction with each other.

Joseph Gonzales had preferred a more theatrical form in his recent works and I was pleasantly surprised when Touched featured a stronger dance element in it. To his credit, Gonzales’ Touched was the only piece that ‘touched’ on current issues; in particular, the recent deaths of several creative talents around the world. Current issues can be used as a powerful tool to engage the audience and thus, making it easy for them to understand dance – and this was the only piece that was largely understood. The tribute incorporated multimedia and projections of the deceased were screened larger-than-life, on the background and on the entire stage floor. Gonzales refers the deceased by first name – Michael (Jackson), Patrick (Swayze), Yasmin (Yusof), Merce (Cunningham), etc – as if he knew them intimately. However, the star of the show was not the dancers, but the multimedia projection. I found myself watching the video more than the dancers, who were relegated into a supporting role.

Suhaili Micheline Ahmad Kamil’s Nerds Gone Nuts was a delightfully entertaining piece. The choreography recently won first prize in Short + Sweet 2009’s dance category. With two teams of nerds, lots of toys and wacky demeanour, the lively piece certainly left the audience in stitches.

Gan Chih Pei’s Before 40 is my favourite piece in JAMU 2009. Not because I fit into this age group, but because of Gan’s artistic intelligence in conveying very clearly, the difficult task of describing what she feels, turning forty. If the title and synopsis did not suggest her age, I would have thought that a twenty-something in her physical prime was performing on stage. Gan’s technical mastery was clearly above the other dancers in this JAMU. Walking back and forth at the back very quickly across the stage, she re-enters, carrying a bundle of clothes - the bundle grows bigger each time she re-enters, and finally, she throws them on the bright, red, modern sofa. The bundle represents clothes that she wore over the years ranging from a pink baby tutu to baggy t-shirts. As we identify the age of a tree by counting its rings, so do we, of Gan’s age, as she charts every ten years of her life by putting on a top throughout the dance; and she had on four layers of clothes at the end of it. The circular hand and legs movements that dominate her choreography nicely complemented the ‘tree rings,’ nature’s way of telling age. A musician in plain sight played the di zhi (Chinese flute) underlining the reflective piece with melancholic notes. Before 40 was a simple, honest, and moving piece.

There were many items featured over the two programs. Suffice to mention, these are my top picks. And for RM10 per show, JAMU 2009 certainly outshines many costlier productions.

(D) It's Just Me Coughing...Literally

2009-10-05T01:31:00.007+08:00

It Is Just Me Coughing
Directed, Visualized and Performed by: Zan Yamashita
Visual Operator: Fumi Yokobori
13 August 2009Annexe Gallery, Central Market

When Zan Yamashita first set foot on stage, I almost expected Scooby-doo to follow suit. Dressed in a washed-out-of-shape t-shirt and comfortable sweat pants, he certainly looked the Japanese version of the lanky lead Shaggy with shaggy hair and rough goatee to boot. However, there were no monsters or ghosts giving chase – just Yamashita justifying his mere existence with the simple act of coughing, a reflex triggered by a consciousness towards mortality.

In 2002, Yamashita created a trilogy that explores the relationship between language and body. The first piece, “It is Written There” was presented at the Itami Ai Hall (Hyogo). In this piece, the audience were constantly invited to turn the page of the book given at the entrance, as the stage host called the page number backwards, and to enjoy switching their gaze between the action on stage and the literature on the page. Two years later, Yamashita created “Invisible Man,” with the expression of dance through words, which was presented at the Tokyo International Art Festival; and in the same year, he received the Kyoto Art Center Theatre Awards for “It Is Just Me Coughing,” the last piece of the trilogy.

In his final piece, Yamashita invites us to enjoy a linear journey of Ozaki Hōsai’s haiku, translated from Japanese to English, ushered by the change of screen projection with every punch of the ‘next’ button. We shift our gaze from the text typed out on the digital media, a minimalist projection, to the stage where Yamashita realizes text into movement. Over time, we learn to anticipate his movements by just reading the text first, because he would do exactly what the text read, over and over again.

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In the programme, Yamashita says that the projection will change each time he has taken 10 breaths. It is not the detailed account that we should be interested in, but more so, the fact that we take breathing for granted.

Text cannot be read continuously without pauses for breath. Likewise, the body cannot move incessantly without inhaling and exhaling air. And, a genuine cough is involuntary, very much like breathing.

However, I found myself reacting to such literal expression with suspicion. Throughout the performance I kept expecting a break from the format, a surprise entry of something that would keep me guessing. I have been so conditioned to expect nothing more than ‘self-interpretation’ when it comes to contemporary works that I found it difficult, with my self-afflicted prejudice, to ‘just embrace’ the work as it is, when the meaning is generously served in both written and movement languages.

Yes, I’ve become a part of the cynical society that has adopted the convoluted notion that, if it is too good to be true, it probably isn’t. And so, I was left in a state of constant impatience, anticipating how the piece would end.

While the work follows a direction that dictates the audiences’ imagination, clearly, I myself refused to be dictated. I was not a lonely cynic though. The disbelieving audience, during the post performance discussion, found it difficult to accept that the haiku was chosen simply because it was the shortest; and that he was just breathing, and not exhaling and inhaling in tandem with the score.

At the end of the trilogy, Yamashita finds that the relationship between language and body is a literal one. Why bother with such grand complexity when we can just appreciate simplicity? The lesson that we learn is that, if we stumble upon something that is too good to be true, it is, literally.

(D) Kaadambari

2009-08-23T01:06:00.001+08:00

Kaadambari
Kuala Lumpur Arts Festival
Temple of Fine Arts
11 & 12 July 2009
Auditorium DBKL

At every performance, the Temple of Fine Arts (TFA) would allocate a VIP seat for the late founder, His Holiness Swami Shantanand Saraswathi, or fondly referred to as Swamiji. They would cover the seat with a beautiful cloth and garland it with flowers.

My new friend, Shanti, whom I got to know just minutes ago, was seated next to ‘him,’ and she asked if I knew Swamiji. Regrettably, I did not. Not in person, at least. But I was one of the privileged few who saw him alive blessing Butterfly Lovers in 2003, the first of TFA’s many large-scale productions to raise funds for their now, near-completed performing arts building. While waiting for the show to start, I discovered from Shanti, that he was not only a kind and wise man, but a beautiful Bajan singer. No sooner did I express my desire to hear him sing, TFA played Swamiji’s Bajans to commence the programme – it was as if the ‘man’ in the garlanded seat heard my request. As we listened to the beautiful singing, Shanti was moved to tears, as his voice brought back a flood of fond memories for her.

Kaadambari simply means a garland of flowers. Just as the qualities and talents that make Swamiji a beautiful person, each item in the programme represents a flower strung together to make the beautiful garland that was presented to the audience.

The performance took us first to the southern part of India’s dance geography with Premanjali, a Bharatanatyam fare with throes of young dancers, each holding a small light in both hands. Against the deep purple backdrop, the dancers remind of delightful little fireflies decorating the night with random sparkles of light. Their movements were far from random though. ‘V’ and ‘X’- shaped formations dominate its structure and the dancers moved in ordered pairs. However, there was a kind of grandeur in the new-age like music that did not blend very well with a typical invocatory item. The battery-operated light that the dancers held introduced no danger and thrill into the performance, which perhaps, reflects on the rather safe choreography, having included very young dancers.

The second Bharatanatyam item, Dashavataram, was performed by seven talented young men, including Hariraam Tingyuan Lam, who made his debut with an Arangetram in May this year. Having followed their progress for years, I felt a sense of pride seeing the third generation of TFA coming of age. At the same time, I was absolutely delighted because male dancers are so difficult to come by – and there, on stage, were seven of them in their kinetic best. This piece featured the ten incarnations of Lord Vishnu. The young men with their youthful looks and playful demeanour projected Lord Vishnu as a young God getting acquainted with the characters, the roles and the divine responsibilities to be undertaken. The dancers satisfied the essence of the incarnations with convincing nritya and near-seamless transitions of transformations; and ending with each posing a manifestation of Lord Vishnu.

Andhra Pradesh, another state in South India, is home to Kuchipudi, an ancient dance form, whose genre is likened as the older cousin of Bharatanatyam. An artwork with a dusty aura featuring grand columns and shaded corridors of a nameless ruin became a looming backdrop for the dancers, who used their bodies to reveal the nine sentiments or navarasa of human emotions in Marakatha Mani Maya Chela/Tarangam. The dancers displayed a strong sense of musicality, and this was evident from the coordinated jangle of the bells strapped at the ankles, augmenting the intricate footwork, which they managed almost flawlessly. For the finale, the lead dancer stepped onto a brass plate, to execute the “dancing on the plate” effortlessly, much to the audiences’ delight. As the Nattuvanar led the dancers into the more complicated jathis, the lead dancer, with her feet still bound to the brass plate, displayed body and hand movements that were as eloquent as those whose feet were free.

Compared to the earlier piece, Vajrakanti Pallavi, an Odissi piece, was more low-key. Odissi is a temple dance with origins in Orissa, west India. It was a subdued interpretation of Guru Durga Charan Ranbir’s original choreography, to display the sport of indolent maidens. The darker and smeared sketches of buildings served as the backdrop for the dancers’ casual and laid-back movements.

Contrary to the temperament of the Odissi piece, Theen Taal, a Kathak dance from north Indian, featured vibrant and energetic movements. The dancer made sharp head movements turning to the left and right, and sometimes diving down in both directions. Her footwork was swift, just as her hand movements were, deftly slicing the space about her with cutting motions. A key feature of this dance is the crescendo of pirouettes. Anchored at an axis, the dancer spins and spins with increasing speed until her yellow skirt and scarf blurs into a soft yellow trail. We held our breath anticipating a possible fall from the dizzying spin; but she did not. Just as quickly as she moved, she came to a quick stop and concluded with a triumphant pose.

The Bhill Dance of the Bhill tribe who are forest dwellers and hunters, and Call of the Desert, a contemporary folk piece about a journey across the desert, are works based on folk traditions. While each was delightful with their colourful costumes, lively music, and beautiful set, the choreographies befit a segment of a musical rather than a stand-alone item.

And finally, One Malaysia, a contemporary dance presentation that included several dances representing the multiplicity of our racial make-up was presented to celebrate the colourful cultural diversity of Malaysia, much like the variety of flowers that make up the beautiful Kaadambari.

(D) Lepas: Tetap Menari

2009-07-26T23:23:00.006+08:00

Lepas: Tetap Menari
17-19 July 2009
ASWARA

Lepas: Tetap Menari can be loosely translated to mean ‘Over: But Still Dancing.” It is an expression of disappointment towards the indefinite postponement of TARI ’09, the much-anticipated international dance gathering and performance offerings originally scheduled for 14 to 18 July 2009. TARI is a contemporary dance performance held every two years and is organized by the Dance Department of the National Arts, Culture and Heritage Academy (ASWARA). The festival was expected to bring in nearly 160 international participants.

Joseph Gonzales, Dean of the Dance Department expressed his disappointment following the school’s decision recently amidst pressures from authorities ‘higher up’ to curb the H1N1 disease.

“However, such are the challenges in life and we must carry on. We are still going to stage a simple show from 17 to 19 July for us here in Kuala Lumpur and the best medicine is to put our best foot forward and dance! The show will be free to the public as we just want to celebrate the talents and the gifts that we have received”

And put their best foot forward they did with eight pieces of work from both local and international performers and choreographers.

James Kan, who left to further his degree on a scholarship with the Taipei National University of Arts in September last year returned on his summer break and presented Dreams, the most stylish and an engaging group choreography of the evening. The work displayed seamless and superb transitions with dancers, moving from frame to inter-frame structured by large grey tables propped up like tiles; rolling in and out of stage swapping roles and positions; and using the colours of costumes, from white to black, depicting the change of thematic moods, from a pleasant dream to a nightmare.

The five dancers in white, magnetised to the table, tossed and wriggled, grappling with the attraction. They finally submitted and displayed shameless affection towards the prop with hugs and stylish poses. The tables converged into a wall to hide all the dancers save one (played by Jessica Ho, one of Aswara’s best students). Left alone, the sole dancer backed up towards the wall and inched slowly from one end to the other shivering with fear and confusion. Two mysterious, fluttering hands that dropped over the wall, trailed her as she moved. As she reached the end of the wall, the two hands strangled her and pulled her body behind the tables, symbolizing the ‘death’ of the first scene. As soon as she ‘disappeared,’ dancers dressed in black appeared taking on darker personalities.

The staged blacked out and all attention was diverted to the right where a small stage was constructed. A sketch of thick barb wires on the wall seems to encase the dancer as he tries to escape the uncomfortable entanglement. When the stage lit up, we see visually neat lines where the dancers sat upright at the edge of the tables. The exploration of space above and below the tables was brief and as the dancers ditched the tables and move backwards, they continued till fade, exploring the space around them, some with angular, and some with circular arm motions. The brilliance in Dreams is in the tight choreography displaying random images resembling those that fleet in our minds.

Other group choreographies include Tapak 4 (Shafirul Azmi Suhaimi Magi), After Duet (Vincent Tan, Batu Dance Theatre), and Line (Mohd Naim Syah Razad Mohd Zin).

The Red Rose, choreographed by Kim Jungyeon (South Korea) is an intermedia piece combining dance and video projections. The piece intends to re-interpret a classical ballet Le Spectre de la Rose, based on a poem by Théophile Gautier, and choreographed by Michel Fokine. The classic first premiered on 19 April 1999 by the Ballets Russes and the dancers at the original performance were Vaslav Nijinsky as the Rose and Tamara Karsavina as the Girl. The story is about a debutante who falls asleep after her first ball. She dreams that she is dancing with the rose that she had been holding in her hand. Her dream ends when the rose escapes through the window.

Red Rose

The video projection toys with the idea of rose petals, stalks and leaves represented by orange colored paper shredded, rolled, spiraled, and folded. At the top right corner of the screen, a hand stirs the ‘petals’ in poetic fashion. Then, we watched the steady fall of ‘autumn leaves’ as it carpets the ground softly. A black and white projection that hints of Asian origami followed. The rigid nature-symbolic shapes of paper blown by a strong wind tumbles violently. The scene was played in slow motion as if to romanticize the severity of a tragedy. In contrast to the rusty, filmic qualities of these visions, another set of projections take on a futuristic feel with shades of aurora colors, repeated designs and an almost impressionist trajectory.

The Girl (Kim) moves in gentle swaying and rocking motion to the melodic and peaceful sound of a clanging bell. The feel was rather monastic especially with Kim wearing her head bald. The movement expression was also poetic, mimicking the image of the ‘petals’ stirred by the hand in the video. Liu Yong Sean, who is also back for summer break from the Korea National University of Arts, plays the Asian Rose making movements from Indonesian dance and Shadow Puppet Theathre (Wayang Kulit). Kim and Liu have wonderful stage chemistry; when the Girl glided down the body of the Rose, we could almost feel the passion and tenderness in the very convincing pas de deux (duet). This interpretation of the 18th century Romanticism maintains the Romantic ideals while integrating the zeitgeist of contemporary aesthetic experience using picturesque visions with a unique Asian taste. What impressed me was Kim’s research into dance literature and history and the thought she put into the reinterpretation, showing us that choreographers are indeed society’s thinkers.

Rasa, choreographed by Sharip Zainal, a multitalented lecturer of ASWARA, combines the music (heavy metal and blues), vocal, dance and theatre disciplines, putting his skills in the four areas to good use. The storyline was so simple yet entertaining, telling us how we all feel (or rasa) the effects of ageing, putting on weight, and decreasing libido. Despite these signs of mid-life crisis, he’s ever the optimist and has a solution for every problem and shows everyone that ‘he’s still got it.’ This piece was absolutely hilarious and effectively conveyed the messages it intended.

Rasa

Wendy Rogers from the University of California performed Duet En Plein Air with Jennifer Twilley. Rogers premieres her new duet that continues her exploration of dance as an ‘architecture’ of action; and investigation of the ways people shape place, and the ways place shapes human movement and interaction. However, what I saw, rather, was an exploration of how humans, through movements, emulate the shapes of abstract objects in the environment. The hypnotic strumming of the two strings in The Sonata for Harp and Guitar OP.374, Parts I and II playing in the background helped conjure up an image of a gentle drizzle, where the two dancers ‘became’ the shape-shifting droplets of water suspended in mid-air.

Duet En Plein Air

Shakti, another duet, was a site-specific work, which drew inspiration from the story of Adam and Eve, with apples included. The audience was ushered to the floors above the site so when we lean over the edge to watch the performance, there were several moments when our eyes were tricked into believing that the floor was actually the wall. The direction in which the bench was placed, and the dancers’ movements around it, created the intentionally confusing perspective that served visual suspense and excitement. Dancers Shafirul Azmi Suhaimi Magi (and choreographer) and Mahani Izzati Suleiman, clad in sarong, splashed about the wet gravel in the confines of a small rectangular space. The non-stop action and to-the-point choreography exudes a sense of tribalism and a kind of rawness that befits the story of man’s Beginning.

Shakti

Solo works are a bit tricky in that it not only relies of the merits of the choreography but also the charisma of the dancer. Both solos presented here, Only Me, by Mohd Fairul Azreen Mohd Zahid from ASWARA, and Filled and Spilled, by Angela Goh who is on a dance residency at Rimbun Dahan, displayed both these characteristics.

Mohd Fairul proved to be a powerful dancer reveling in jumps and turns, running in sprints traversing the stage and even showing off a burst of floor gymnastics concluding with a full split. Strong spotlights marks the floor in a vertical line and Fairul enters each, basking. Plainly, this narcissist piece had ‘only me’ written all over it.

Goh’s piece was quite the opposite in its treatment. It featured very soft dynamics and gradual disclosures of her body and the dance. The lighting design shaped an empty glass on the floor that was gradually being ‘filled’ with light inching its way from ground up. The dainty, uncertain footwork graduated to confident arm and body movements. Though the ‘filled’ aspect of her work was obvious, the ‘spilled’ portion is still underdeveloped in this work-in-progress performance.

This production may be small but the people that made it happen were big in spirit, motivated by the drive to continue dancing, regardless.

(D) Unleash!

2009-06-13T01:16:00.005+08:00

June 4-5
Experimental Theatre, Aswara, KL

Last week, the 2009 dance graduates of Aswara (the Malay acronym for the National Arts, Culture and Heritage Academy) performed their last show, Unleash!, before they were, well, "unleashed" from school, having completed three years of training.

As part of their finals, the 22 graduates were graded over two nights of performances, featuring Living Traditions (traditional dances), then New Directions (contemporary dances).

Aswara has expanded the range of traditional dance genres taught and graded as compulsory subjects. They include Bharatanatyam (Indian dance), Tari Inai, Tari Piring, Zapin Pekajang, Tarian Gamelan Ayak Ayak, Terinai, Ngajat, Zapin Lenga, Zapin Putar Alam, Tari Piring and Mongolian Dance (Chinese dance). This is good for the students, as they get to learn more. But it also means that the exams are tougher!

As they dashed in and out of the stage tackling one dance after another in Living Traditions, I was impressed that they did not mix up the dances and that they exhibited good mental and muscular prowess.

My favourites were the graceful and hypnotic Tarian Gamelan Ayak Ayak (a court dance from Trengganu) and the Terinai (a dance from Perlis, performed at weddings), and the action-packed Tari Piring, which reminded me of Chinese acrobatic shows that had tricks with porcelain plates. The trick to keeping grasp of the plates in both hands is to move fast enough to defy gravity. One student found this difficult and had to use her thumbs to steady them.

Prior to each dance, we got to see candid video clips of the students goofing around, rehearsing and sharing what they know and understand about the dance they are introducing. These are shown on the spanking new projector screens hoisted on either side of the experimental theatre.

Over the years, Aswara has invested in traditional costumes and accessories tailor-made for each genre. Every piece of songket, necklace, or hairpin that completes the attire and the way it is worn also forms part of our rich traditions.

More wonderful than the resplendent costumes on the graduates was their inter-cultural connection. A Chinese student performing the Terinai spoke earnestly about her love for this dance and trying to feel the Malay ethos as she embraces it. A Malay student marvelled at the Mongolian dance while attempting to visualise the expanse of Mongolia, with wild horses racing across its landscape in abandon. There was genuine interest and respect for each other’s cultures.

I enjoyed the contemporary showcase of New Directions. There are so few choreographers in Malaysia that one looks forward to new blood, with its promise of new ideas and unique personal styles. But at the start of the evening, I wondered if the works presented by the three graduates, who had the same foundation in dance and were being graded as choreographers, might be similar in one way or another. My fears were unfounded.

Chia Yan Wei’s Another Me explored the part of ourself that we want to hide. A cupboard without doors on the centre of the stage served to compartmentalise and box up the different facets of our lives. In contrast to the dark theme, Chia dressed her dancers in bold, bright colours. Two girls in baggy purple tops addressed some weighty issues. Two guys in striking red shorts and green, striped long-sleeved T-shirts seemed to be inseparable, displaying obvious affection in a captivating duet that addressed homosexuality.

A guy sprinted onto the stage for a brief solo and was out before we could catch anything meaningful.

The final segment clearly reflected female competitiveness as the dancers tried to get ahead by pulling back those in front of them. Echoes of the thump of machines signalled the entry of each group and their movements were edgy as if nervous about being found out.

Raymond Liew Jin Pin showcased Speak Out, a whole new way of venting. The dancers, wearing their favourite pyjamas, had their heads fully wrapped in off-white cloth and they performed with their heads covered throughout. The covered heads represented muffling. Frustrated, the dancers released their tensions through erratic, bird-like movements.

Liew fully utilised the space by having activities in dispersed clusters. These clusters gradually converged into a clump that looked like a large breathing organism as one by one, the bodies heaved up, then fell back into place.

It was also fascinating to watch how the dancers related to each other in the absence of sight, with their eyes covered. (NOT CLEAR!) Their movements were coordinated, as if they only needed to feel what the others were doing. One memorable scene was when two dancers locked elbows to execute a lift. The girl, facing forward with legs bent, looked as if she was seated as she hung from her partner’s arms.

Mohd Hafiz Untong’s Tadah ambitiously incorporated theatre and live music into the choreography. The dance started with a husband-and-wife duet featuring movements from various Malay dance vocabularies and silat. These combined effectively to tell the tragic tale of a faithful wife who waited for her man’s return until the day she died. The act of snuffing out the candles signalled her demise.

There was interaction between movements and props as the dancers dug their hands and inserted one leg into bins, and then moved about as if dragged by the weight of the bin. Hafiz certainly showed that he has the potential to move on to musicals.

So what’s next after graduation?

ASWARA is recommending Chia for a four-month choreography workshop in Taiwan. Fifteen of the graduates plan to pursue degrees - one at Universiti Malaysia Sabah; two at the Korea National University of Arts, and the rest at ASWARA.

Six graduates are awaiting replies from Petronas, Istana Budaya and Dewan Bandaraya Kuala Lumpur on full-time jobs as dancers. Liew hopes to go to Germany to pursue a dance career.

About 15 of the grads are involved in two shows scheduled for August - Noordin Hassan’s Intan Yang Tercanai, choreographed by Sharip Zainal and produced by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka, and Tun Razak the Musical, to staged by ASWARA at Istana Budaya.

Five others will perform in Jakarta from Aug 6 to 9 in a repertoire of contemporary dance.Well, nothing beats performing for a dance graduate. As Oscar Wilde put it, "Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing worth knowing can be taught."

(D) Sutra – A ‘Monk-trous’ Feat

2009-06-02T13:02:00.004+08:00

Sutra – A ‘Monk-trous’ Feat
by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, Antony Gormley, Szymon Brzoska and Monks from the Shaolin Temple
Singapore Arts Festival 2009
22-23 May 2009

When it comes to performances that involve monks and Kung Fu, I’m always wary that it would turn out to be just another Kung Fu demonstration. I refuse to watch those touring performances that claim to be Shaolin this and Shaolin that because, in principal, I do not agree that spiritual men should join the circus and that their sacred duty is not to entertain.

The very act of perfecting the martial art is to use the body as a measure of discipline, endurance and perseverance for the development of mental strength to cultivate the spiritual mind. In a similar vein, disciples of western dance forms also share the same religious fervour going by the practice-makes-perfect mantra to arrive at technical perfection. The challenge for Flemish-Moroccan choreographer Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui (Larbi) is to manage the delicate matter of examining intercultural similarities and differences underlined with the philosophy of Buddhism and to conceptualize a vision that marries all these elements.

Ultimately, Sutra turned out to be quite a vision – a ‘monk-trous’ feat that converged choreography with architecture, in a collision of movement, structure, space and illusion.

Structure, space and illusion have always been the domains of architecture. And because of its constant presence and the frequent interplay of these elements throughout the work, I’m inclined to put British sculptor and collaborator Antony Gromley as Larbi’s choreographic equal. In many ways, the lidless, man-size wooden box, embodying the Buddhist concept of the body as delimited space, conceived by Gromley inspired many parts of the choreography. The various structural formations necessitated and dictated a number of movements.

On its own, the box served Larbi’s imagination. It becomes what he wants it to be – life boat, coffin, swimming pool, tight cave, and even stairs! Perhaps the inclusion of the child monk represents this child-like versatility towards imagination. Give an object to a child and he will turn it into a toy or anything he fancies in a wonderful world of make-belief.

Collectively, the boxes, like oversized Lego blocks, formed larger-than-life structures –maze, pillars, pedestals, walls, arches, stacked coffins, stage, eroding cliff, waves, snail shells, and lotus. At times, Larbi is the voodoo witch constructing the formation of the miniature version of the wooden boxes while the monks obediently move the man-size boxes about following suit. It is possible that the ‘invisible hand’ that motions the monks is meant to indicate the presence of a higher being in control. At other times, Larbi meandered amongst the monks as an observer attempting to emulate them but always unsuccessful as the clumsy outsider. Even Larbi’s box is painted silver, designed to stand out from the other unvarnished boxes, and to differentiate him.

The hollow, lidless box allowed room for illusion. The monks disappear and reappear on stage by simply immersing themselves in the box and then emerging again on cue, like a monk-in-a-box. Depth and gravity, or the lack of it, within the box is created at a whim. Depth and dimension too was created on the stage itself by virtue of the organized configurations.

When the monks appeared looking rather smart in their handsome suits, I wondered if Larbi was poking fun at Stephen’s Chow’s Kung Fu Hustle, where the axe-wielding Chinese triad wore similar attire.

Inevitably, the monks did do some Kung Fu demonstration. Thankfully this did not make up the bulk of the performance. At the very least, these demonstrations of various fighting styles mimicking animals such tiger, toad, praying mantis, scorpion, and the mythical monkey god, and some weapon play, served to show us the martial art in its original form so that we can later appreciate the comparison when the martial art crosses dance. And, at the very least, we could also marvel at the strength, agility, balance, and precision displayed by these warrior monks honed through years of practice.

Larbi’s direction, together with the music composed by Szyman Brzoska, brought the two (martial art and dance) disciplines closer. In effect, we saw the monks ‘dance.’

Like fingers running through a scale, in which one note follows the other, the monks, lined up in a row, each echoed the movement of the monk in front creating what looked like a visual sound wave resounding with increasing velocity. This was accompanied by sounds from movement – body slaps and involuntary shouts that comes with the use of force. The Strings become more intense the more the force. Even the pause is important in the score. In the silence we hear the whoosh of the wind interrupted by blows, and the ruffle of the monk’s uniform when they kick and jump.

When the monks sat atop the pedestals, soft musical phrases accommodate the tempo of graceful hand movements like sign language spoken in chorus. On the ground, the monks seem to be practicing Tai Chi amidst a serene, quiet atmosphere. The naturally slow and graceful Tai Chi movements have a subconscious connection to music, which culminates beautifully into an elegant Eastern waltz.

All in, Sutra offers a compelling perspective that places the essence of the philosophy and faith behind the Shaolin tradition into the contemporary context using the vectors of movement, space and music.

Sponsorship Acknowledgements

Special thanks to:
National Arts Council, Singapore
Singapore Tourism Board

(M) Rhythm In Bronze (RiB)

2009-05-31T11:37:00.015+08:00

Rhythm In Bronze (RiB)
22 to 24 May 2009
Flipside
Esplanade, Singapore

I really love sitting by the bay at the Esplanade in the evening. The scorching sun gone, I embraced the gentle bay breeze that caressed me as I let myself relax. Sitting alone at the open air theatre, I relished the moments of solitude accompanied only by my packed dinner and Evian. Time stood still for me while the rest of Singapore’s financial district packed the MRTs rushing home from work.

After shopping for four hours, I was a proud contributor to Singapore's economy! Give me another four hours and I would have lifted the republic from its recession. I chose a seat with a pillar behind me because I was feeling rather tired and spineless (by then). I wanted a good break and was looking forward to Flipside, the daily free performance at the open air theatre in conjunction with the Singapore Arts Festival. And lo behold! It was Rhythm in Bronze, our home-grown gamelan troupe performing that evening.

In the crowd, there was a good mixture of locals and foreigners. An Indonesian man sat right in front wearing a batik headscarf on his head tied to look like a hat (what do you call this?), and wearing a t-shirt that had “Visit Indonesia 2008” boldly written on its back. And because he was sitting on the front-most bench, everyone behind him could read it. I loved the irony…hah! What also caught my attention was the number of young Singaporean Malays - dressed as if they’re going for Avril Lavigne’s concert – making this an outing with friends. What this proves is that RiB, despite its obvious traditional genre, has managed to find its appeal, through its innovation and use of some Western instruments, amongst the young seeking an identity they can relate to.

And when they played, the traditional ensemble rocked the crowd with infectious melodies, and catchy beats. I almost wanted to shout out ‘Malaysia Boleh’ and let it echo amidst the stunned audience; but then I refrained. No need for a side show, especially since I was croaking that day. But, wow, the performance totally rocks!

Photos courtesy of RIB.

(D) Toilet

2009-05-26T11:37:00.001+08:00

Toilet – Not Flushed
20-24 May 2009
KLPac

When I read that theatre director Loh Kok Man’s earlier work Untitled featured in 2003 received rave reviews, I was eager to see how it’s new version, now titled Toilet, turned out. Toilet featured a mix of original and new cast comprising mostly dancers. Apparently, the former was primarily a theatre piece while the latter infused more dance.

Loh recently bagged the Best Director award with his interpretation of George Orwell’s Animal Farm, and also the Best Lighting Design for the play Air Con at the recent Boh Cameronian Arts Awards (Cammies).

Despite these accolades, Loh’s directorial brilliance was not evident in his latest production. Loh’s intention, when he chose the less-than-appealing title for this performance, was to suggest, rather crudely, topics of taboo and problems in our society. It is the metaphor for all things ‘dirty’ and represents that which society expels. He took a huge risk in using this approach, and I guess luck was not with him in this gamble. I prefer a more subtle direction, purging the grouses of society without being lewd or distasteful.

The very notion of Toilet suggests privacy and meditation. On the ‘throne’ of undisturbed contemplation, we empty our minds (and bowels) only to have it filled afresh with new aspirations.
Alone in the toilet, our minds are free to drift into a private, ideal world. The opening dance seems to reflect this best. On the surface, it seems to be a coordinated dance uniformed by wooden benches, a childish theme, and object-inspired movements. But on closer inspection, the oblivious looks and cold contact hinted that the five dancers, while moving in common space, were indeed in a world of their own.

This aloofness and detachment carried through in Amy Len’s solo performed against a narrative that describes the essence of being human. The four readers, seated at each corner of the stage, droned on until the collective voices became a comfortable, lulling murmur. Amy reacted to these sounds with strong, accented movements interspersed with contractions. Sequences were repeated with increasing speed until she collapses, breathless. Despite her technical competence, the lack of interaction and association with the context of the narrative rendered the performance rather soulless. Within that square space, it is possible to explore the various human dimensions and the underlying social processes or driving forces behind the individual and the society; but this opportunity was not exploited.

Gan Hui Yee and Tin Tan had the unenviable task of tackling the more mundane scenes where time seems to pass with difficulty. This include a dreary slow-motion scene in a park where Gan plays a woman sitting on a bench polishing off one banana after banana while Tin Tan plays a girl walking with her balloon with her mouth perpetually ajar. In another scene, the duo stretched their vocal chords to feverish pitches as they competed for vocal space and talent recognition. While I admired their patience and their vocal strength albeit a bit off-key, I could not really tell the meaning and purpose behind these two vignettes in relation to the main theme.

The duet rendered by Leng Poh Gee and Louise Yew explores the complex dynamics that surround human relationships using contact improvisation technique as their main vocabulary. Using this language, we witness the paradigms of social exchange in motion where the operant and respondent are players in a consequential relationship. It is a conceptualization of relationships or social interactions among two (or more) people. All human beings feel the need to have and develop relationships, yet, while in these relationships, individuals strive to maximize their rewards – and this may be anything that satisfies human needs or desires.

What Toilet could have been, is a platform to a richer understanding of the complex dynamics that surround the individual and his or her relationship with society. When radical social conditions are mentioned, apologists for present practice take a philosophical turn and defend their own conception of human nature as the final explanation of the predatory competitiveness of our age of waste and greed. It should mention the truth that we don’t want to hear – that as humans we have always been greedy, grasping creatures, entirely absorbed in ourselves. All human ties of love, affection and social unity are really manipulative appearances that conceal the sheer private opportunism that actually motivates us. And, these traits of individualism are the social diarrhoea that needs to be flushed away.

Little World - Steppe-ing into Kazakhstan

2009-05-21T17:01:00.003+08:00

My Kazakh date never showed up yesterday morning. But his replacement did...40 minutes late.

So while waiting, I browsed a coffee table book on Kazakh art. The first thing that struck me was the different energies that exuded from works of male versus female artists. Firstly, the subjects of choice by male artists were typically men at war and skillful hunters - all on horseback. I cannot forget the picture of a warrior whose body turned towards the back ever so slightly that no one would notice a little bow readied at waist-level with a tensed arrow, will soon be released on some poor bloke who is giving chase. It was a picture of strengh, of skillful horsemenship and most of all, of a warrior's cunning. The obsession with muscles, chiselled with care, on these male images and on the horses were hard to miss. The women artists painted women who were just lying there, swooned, in a clearly, anti-climatic expression. The somewhat lack of 'Yin' energies were compensated with vibrant colours and meticulous detail - but still, the 'connection' with the painting remains lost.

A photograph on the wall simply took my breath away - large eagles with wings spanning several meters were flying alongside their masters on horseback against the backdrop of snow-blanketed steppes. This traditional art of hunting with eagles is called 'berkutchy,' practiced by professional hunters, an inherited profession. I was immediately seduced by the romance of these wild lands. It is the people and the living arts that they survive, that flames the fire of romance and adds character to the vast landscape. This is exactly what's missing in the 'barren' outbacks of Australia, which explains why the movie, named after the country, failed miserably, in romancing cinema-goers. Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman were simply not children of the outbacks, and no amount of good acting will make them one.

I did not hear hoof steps when my replacement date arrived. Wearing trousers, shirt and tie, he looked very much an urban Asian on his way to work. When I demanded for the missing book on Kazakh dance, he apologetically said that they did not have one, and then shyly assured me that Kazakh people do like to dance. I assumed that this shyness has something to do with the male ethos that has more respect for horsemenship than say, dancing?

I also noticed that we share the same oriental features. No wonder he agreed to meet me! I could actually pass off as a Kazakh girl - as long as I keep my mouth shut and continue swooning.

Little World - Maldives' Last 'Resort'

2009-05-20T12:34:00.003+08:00

I had an interesting meeting with a blogger from Maldives yesterday afternoon and he talked about the various 'brands' of Islam and how a certain brand of Islam does not provide a conducive environment for dance to survive (what say flourish).

"Personally, as a Muslim, I do not see anything in the Quran that prohibits dance," he said.

The island cultures filled with festival, music and dance, that he experienced as a kid are no longer practiced in those islands.

"But you can always see the dances in the many resorts that we have in Maldives. There are always Maldives Nights and performances for the tourists."

That's when I questioned the authenticity of the dances - are these performances created for tourists authentic? Will you get the same experience if you were to watch the same thing performed in the villages?

"Unfortunately, this is all you get. The resorts are the only places that these artists can make a living. Currently, the resorts are the only thing that's keeping our performing arts alive."

All is not lost. I was glad to hear that there are some people in Maldives who are trying to revive these island cultures. My blogger friend is now considering writing papers on the revival efforts of these art forms...when he retires.

You need to do it now, my friend!

Little World - Russia's Pride

2009-05-20T12:06:00.003+08:00

I met a tall, beautiful, young Russian lady yesterday morning. Sporting a Bvlgary white gold necklace and charm, she looked every bit a poised figure, and one with tastes for the finer things in life. It was no surprise that she rubbished ballet in Malaysia and wondered what's all the fuss we make about some British certification.

"How can you make ballerinas if the kids only practice twice a week? In Russia, parents send their kids to the ballet school every single day.

I agree with her. That's why we have a school for young talented athletes in Bukit Jalil. But we have nothing of that sort for performing arts. We also do not have a Bolshoi ballet to look forward to for a career.

"In Russia, we are very particular about the classical form. We are very conservative and traditional in that sense. We do not bother with the neo-classical or modern forms. Classical ballet is the only true form. That's why Russian ballet is number one in the world," she said.

Ballet is Russia's pride. Other than nasi lemak and teh tarik (which Singapore has already claimed), what are we proud of?

(D) Gostan Forward

2009-05-14T21:09:00.004+08:00

Gostan Forward – Lecture Notes
8 May 2009
The Annexe Gallery, Central Market

The programme, as written by Mark Teh (Director of Gostan Forward), read like an obituary of Marion D’Cruz. Then, as he opened the show with talk of ‘memories,’ and how fluid it is, Anne James (guest performer) looked on with eyes glistened with tears.

But here was the woman, very much alive and performing in front of us; and making us laugh so hard that we could die laughing in our chairs or roll over on the tikar laid out on the floor.

Gostan Forward is an invitation to step into the mind and body of Marion D’Cruz, and to remember and to rediscover her in our own ways. It was a performance she just had to do in this lifetime and it almost felt like Marion’s rite of passage signalling her arrival at a certain phase in life – the celebration of Five Arts Centre’s (which she founded) 25th Anniversary.

And so, Marion was ‘delivered’ through a solo performance lecture that spun well-told stories using text, movement, music and images, referencing some of her favourite and significant pieces of her 60-odd choreographies. After years of collaborative efforts with artists, filmmakers, and the like, the ability to merge all these elements seamlessly into one production became her forte. It was a magical way of teaching the process of thinking, creating, discovering, rehearsing, and finally, seeing the final product. And most of all, it is about going back to reflect and contemplate to acquire the wisdom to move forward.

As we gostan (reverse) into Marion’s own history, we see how intricately it’s linked to Malaysian dance history and social history. The pieces selected chart her thoughts and experiences since the 80s, the era when Malaysia’s National Cultural Policy was formed. Marion’s own determination to overcome social ethos made her the first non-Malay woman to perform the lead male role of Terinai, and one of the two women to become a Dalang for Wayang Kulit.

The word ‘provocative’ rightly describes Marion. Wearing a black shirt (on a no-black-shirt day) with words that say ‘Let me speak,” Marion had plenty to say about the state of the nation and the deplorable state of affairs in Perak, which she calls a ‘Civil War.’

This set the stage for reliving a recent work, Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya (BMBR). It was created at the time when the Marion turned 57, a time when she experienced deep, extreme grief and loss – for Krishen, her husband, and for a nation that had ‘lost its plot.’ She invited 40 people to participate, out of which 22 agreed. The idea was to create multiple stories. The challenge to the participants was, “if you were given time and space, what would you say to Malaysia?” They had to come back with an idea that was tangible. The participants came back with Panadol, Rukun Negara, ‘Good Morning’ towel, kaleidoscope, and a picture of a gun, amongst other things. The idea was to create ‘multiplicity’ to represent the many bodies and minds of Malaysians. While, she claims, the democratic space in Malaysia is shrinking, the democratic space in her little Taman Tun studio is expanding. When she talks about the challenge of negotiating rehearsal schedules and different characters, she quickly drew a parallel to negotiating democracy. BMBR was Marion’s personal search for a Malaysia that is sweet but lost and far away. It is about her desire for every Malaysian to become the elusive ‘Chilayu woman.’

Marion shifted the gear stick to reverse and took us on a journey to New York with a frustrated rendition of New York New York, the popular broadway number. Projected on the wall is a painting of the city’s skyline cramped with towering buildings. It’s splashed with strong, fiery red at its base, and slowly its intensity recedes to a lighter orange, then yellow as the colours creeps skywards. And when it reaches the sky, the canvas burst into white, the all-colour. The receding tone paint Marion’s attempts to break free from being a dancer to becoming, simply, herself, the creator and collaborator of all arts. When you are free from syllabus, you can make dance, drawing inspiration from various sources.

Makna – creating movement from music

Marion reminisces about her first collaborator, Margaret Tan, a small, intense lady who graduated from Julliard, a prestigious dance school in New York. She created music that expresses her own intensity and favoured discovery of East-West collisions. Marion, who lived beneath Tan’s apartment, had been stirring curry to Tan’s music; and having digested every note, she was the right candidate to create dance to her music. Thus Makna was created using a combination of Silat and Topeng (which she admits to picking up from watching a video) vocabularies. She confessed to her first mistake, which was to ‘cut and paste’ traditional vocabularies into a contemporary one, but quickly said that the work was ‘saved’ by having a concept – a ritual of putting on the mask, and by “…feeling the music for ten seconds in a frenzied dance”. The ‘cut and paste’ method is a reflection of early attempts in dance productions to incorporate elements of traditional dances into a contemporary dance. Makna was presented to the legendary John Cage. And to think that the dance inspired Cage to write a mesostic with Marion’s name as its spine - it is a huge compliment especially coming from Cage, one of the most influential American composers of the 20th century who was also instrumental in the development of modern dance through his association with Merce Cunningham.

When she returned from New York, she immediately launched into dance-making with Solo, the first one-woman dance performance touring most parts of Malaysia to introduce the country to contemporary dance. By 1988 she discovered the joy of improvisation and became an ‘armchair’ choreographer working with non-dancers who are ‘mad enough to join her in this journey.’ Solo became the prototype method of showing-telling-performing that is repeated in other works.

Urn Piece – creating movement from objects

When ‘presenting’ the Urn piece, she describes how the shape, strength and function of the object inspire the movements that make the dance. Like a lullaby, she whispered to us the feeling of sitting inside the urn, tapping our kinaesthetic memory of being in the womb. She seduces us with the idea that as a performer, she has the power to create reactions, and she proves her point as our eyes follow intently the movement of her hands (running around the rim of the imaginary urn) anticipating its next move.

Sook Ching – creating movement from paintings and video

Sook Ching, meaning ‘purification by elimination,’ was painted in 1990 by Wong Hoi Cheong to describe the horrors experienced by the people during the Japanese occupation. Sook Ching became a multi-media presentation of video, performance, painting and dialogue between Marion, Wong and Anne James, which was presented at the International Video Art Festival, National Art Gallery, Kuala Lumpur. Marion shifted from pose to pose showing us how the movements were derived from the painting. After looking at the painting and video countless times, they became the characters “…walking out from the painting.”

Swan Song – creating movement from text

Maria Zaitun is a poem by WS Rendra on the last seven hours of a prostitute’s life. The poem is rough and uses strong language to describe how the prostitute is rejected by all systems in society. After 11 months of preparation, the ugly topic became Marion’s Swan Song. This piece speaks of her religion, her politics and her being. Marion likens dance to vomit – you absorb and absorb and at some point you need to vomit it out – implying that Swan Song was the catalyst for her purging women pieces. James joined Marion in a duet. They both sat back-to-back on the table swaying hypnotically as Marion sings a beautiful but sorrowful song about “…an unfortunate whore who is not pretty enough and too old”. The last part of this dance uses the Terinai vocabulary because the wedding dance symbolizes union between Maria Zaitun with her Maker. James was so moved when revisiting this scene that tears flowed freely. At some point in every woman’s life, we must have felt the sinking feeling of helplessness and desperation that circumstance puts us. It is a poem that every woman can read and reread; and as James puts it, “…to grow old with.”

Terinai – putting soul into movement

In the finale, Marion expounds on the difficulty of mastering Malay classical dance. While the movements are easy to catch on, not everyone can put ‘soul’ into the dance nor internalize the dance. She stopped talking for the first time in the performance, put on her mask and proceeded to perform her favourite dance, Terinai, a wedding dance from Perlis. We are fixated on her flexible curved fingers and her gentle hands in constant movement pushing away from her body and then retracting it. At one point, her white-grey hair cropped short blends with the male-faced mask and for a moment, she ‘became’ the mask.

Moving forward, Marion declared an inclusive policy for dance. Through Five Arts Centre, she wants to make dance so ordinary that it is extraordinary; to make dance that make people say ‘wow’ but at the same time say, “Hey, I can do that!”

Speech by Ms Choy Su-Ling, ADC Launch

2009-04-30T16:32:00.002+08:00

Speech by Ms Choy Su-Ling at the ADC launch

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you so much for coming today.

I would like to share with you how AsiaDanceChannel came to be.

AsiaDanceChannel is first and foremost a corporate social responsibility programme with the objective of promoting dance and preserving dance heritage.

In the scope of Environmental, Social and Governance (ESG) issues, ADC’s CSR projects fall under ‘Social.’ While many Environmental and Governance projects are already in place, ADC provides one of the most comprehensive touch points to address Social issues, using dance as a channel.

When we talk about dance in the context of Asia, it often cannot be separated from music and theatre because all these are intrinsically linked together as the manifestation of the culture, custom, and lifestyle of a certain community. We need to make a collective effort to preserve these multi-cultures without which the substance for interculturalism would not exist.

As a nation, we are not only blessed with natural resources but also cultural resources. As we transit into an innovation-fuelled economy, the driving force in the next phase of our development will be the imaginative and creative capacity of our people. The new architects of the global economic landscape are those who apply their imagination, creativity and knowledge to generate new ideas and create new value. Multi-dimensional creativity – including artistic and literary creativity – will be the new currency of success.

Many countries now see the creative industries as a key competitive advantage in the globalised economy. Ideas and imagination have become valuable assets and drivers of economic opportunities and growth. We must harness creativity and the power of innovation to forge ahead in a competitive and globalised economy. To succeed and thrive, we must tap on the creative cluster - which are arts, culture, design and media – and recognise them as one of the vanguards of economic growth.

Industries which are inspired by cultural and artistic creativity have the potential to create economic value through the generation and exploitation of intellectual property. For example, dance repertoires are intellectual property.

The efforts include developing creative capabilities, stimulating sophisticated demand and strengthening industry players to become credible and significant players in the global creative landscape. This is a tall order and we cannot do it alone. AsiaDanceChannel strive to bridge dance communities with business communities. For a start, we are making an effort to lobby for cultural philanthropy in corporate CSR agenda. We need to create a unique people-private-public collaborative platform providing various levels of support, including facilitation and funding.

The emerging social contract dictates that profit seeking must be carried on within a broader context than the traditional economic calculus. The corporation is a social organization as well as an economic organization and its performance will be appraised in social as well as economic terms. Businesses must restructure its objectives so that social goals are put on par with economic goals.

If I were to ask you who is the Martha Graham or Merce Cunningham of Asia? Nobody knows. This is a pity because in Asia we have so many Grand Masters and dance exponents who are custodians of dance heritage. In 2005, UNESCO declared mak yong, a traditional dance-drama from northern Malaysia, a “Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.” AsiaDanceChannel.com wants to put Asian talents and culture on the world map. By promoting and raising the profile of Asian dance and dancers, we hope that the younger generation would develop an interest in inheriting these art forms.

Most of the large continents such as USA, Europe and Australia, have dance magazines, so why not Asia? Asia comprise of an aggregate of the cultural heritage of many nationalities, societies, religions, and ethnic groups in the region. AsiaDanceChannel.com, as a new media channel fills the gap for rich Asian content and gives dance in Asia the share of voice it deserves.

The objective of the dance magazine is to create dance ‘audienceship’ converting individuals with no prior inclination towards dance to someone that does.

Last but not least, I would like to take the opportunity to thank the Media, Dance and Southeast Asia Departments of University Malaya for their collective efforts in putting up the International Dance Day celebrations. I would also like to thank Creative Technology Advances Sdn Bhd, our technology sponsor, for taking the lead in cultural philanthropy through the provision of their technology support.

And finally, happy International Dance Day!

Thank you.

AsiaDanceChannel.com – Asia’s First Online Dance Magazine Launch

2009-04-30T16:18:00.003+08:00

AsiaDanceChannel.com – Asia’s First Online Dance Magazine Launch

29 April 2009 marks an important date for the dance communities as Asia’s first online dance magazine, AsiaDanceChannel.com, was launched in conjunction with International Dance Day. The double celebration heralds the revival of society’s interest in dance.

“Most of the large continents such as USA, Europe and Australia, have dance magazines, so why not Asia? Asia comprise of an aggregate of the cultural heritage of many nationalities, societies, religions, and ethnic groups in the region. AsiaDanceChannel.com fills the gap for rich Asian content and gives dance in Asia the share of voice it deserves,” said founder Ms Choy Su-Ling, a dance blogger.

“Who is the Martha Graham or Merce Cunningham of Asia? Not many people know. This is a pity because in Asia we have so many Grand Masters and dance exponents who are custodians of dance heritage. In 2005, UNESCO declared mak yong, a traditional form of dance-drama from northern Malaysia, a “Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.” AsiaDanceChannel.com wants to put Asian talents and culture on the world map. By promoting and raising the profile of Asian dance, we hope that the younger generation would develop an interest in inheriting these art forms.”

However, the online dance magazine does not only cover traditional and classical dance forms. It also covers contemporary, ballet, modern, jazz, Latin American and other dance forms practiced and enjoyed in Asia. The online dance magazine now features dance reviews, interviews, event listings, and videos. Readers are able to plan ahead for shows and festivals not only in their own country but even as they travel Asia. The magazine not only targets dancers and dance enthusiasts but also people who have a general interest in culture and art, and travellers. In fact, the goal of creating dance ‘audienceship’ is to convert individuals with no prior inclinations towards dance to someone that does.

More sophisticated modules of the website are in the pipeline and AsiaDanceChannel.com has Creative Advances Technology Sdn Bhd (CAT), the technology sponsor, to thank. CAT is the developer of the highly successful VirtualMalaysia.com, the official e-tourism portal for the Ministry of Tourism, Malaysia, which today receives over 30 million hits and 1 million pageviews a month. Following the success of the portal, CAT developed the Malaysian Tourism Online Unified Reservation System (myTOURS), a consolidated tourism e-business platform funded by the MDeC development grant.

“We recognize that in Asia, dance is an integral part of the culture and therefore the agenda to promote and preserve dance heritage can be achieved by fully harnessing the power of communications technology through myTOURS. We are very pleased that AsiaDanceChannel invited us to be a part of this initiative that contributes such a tremendous intangible economic value to the nation,” said Mr Vincent Kok, Chief Operating Officer of CAT, when officiating the launch of the online dance magazine.

International Dance Day was celebrated jointly with the Media, Dance and Southeast Asia Departments of University Malaya. Students put up an afternoon of performance featuring the taklempong ensemble, and Zapin, Ngajat Iban, Bharatanatyam and contemporary dances. According to tradition, the International Dance Day Message circulated around the world by the International Dance Committee of the International Theatre Institute UNESCO (ITI/UNESCO) was read out.

In 1982, the ITI/UNESCO founded International Dance Day to be celebrated every year on 29 April. The date commemorates the birthday of Jean-Georges Noverre, born in 1728, who was a great reformer of dance. In 1995, in an effort to unite dance, the ITI/UNESCO entered into a collaborative effort for the celebration of International Dance Day with World Dance Alliance as their only official partner. Every year, a message from a well-known dance personality is circulated throughout the world. This year, the honour goes to Mr Akram Khan, an acclaimed choreographer of Bangladeshi decent. The intention of International Dance Day and the Message is to bring all dancers together on this day, to celebrate this art form and revel in its universality, to cross all political, cultural and ethnic barriers and to bring people together in peace and friendship with a common language - Dance.

(D) A Delicate Situation

2009-04-11T01:06:00.004+08:00

A Delicate Situation
Rimbun Daham, Lina Limosani
12-13 December 2008 (8.30pm)
14 December 2008 (3pm)
Pentas 2, Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre

Rimbun Dahan’s dance residency programme featured its third resident choreographer, Lina Limosani, in a full-length contemporary dance performance entitled A Delicate Situation. Limosani graduated from the Victorian College of the Arts in Australia in 1999 and shortly after became a member of the Australian Dance Theatre from 2000-2005. She is more familiar with comedy but decided to dabble with the horror genre instead having been inspired by the story of our Malaysian Pontianak.

Apparently, she walked into her room at the residence one day and caught a glimpse of something white floating in the air. Coming out of her shock, she bravely ventured closer towards the ‘thing’ that caught her imagination. To her relief, it was just a piece of white cloth hung on a clothes hanger flapping away due to the wind sweeping in from a nearby window. She then decided to ask about Malaysian ghost stories and finally settled on the Pontianak, the ghost of a woman who dies while giving birth.

That ‘close encounter’ at the residence certainly had an effect on Limosani as she went on to use a lot of white cloth on set and for costumes; so much that even textile superstore, Kamdar, could have run out of supply! The clever use of material and lighting created a naturally creepy ambiance on the dim stage. The audience was held in suspense, anticipating the sight of the horrifying creature wrapped and hidden in the white cloth cocoon as it tries to claw through it. The back light that cast on the ‘creature’ created a shadowy hint of what it might potentially look like. I always take my hat off to those who can do so much with so little.

Thanks to show producer Bilqis Hijjas, Limosani had the benefit of working with four of Malaysia’s best contemporary dancers - Suhaili Micheline, Rathimalar Govindarajoo, Elaine Pedley and Low Shee Hoe.

Low played a young man eaten alive by the pontianaks. Humans are crunchier than I thought, from the crunchy sound chosen by composer Hardesh Singh in the scene where the pontianaks happily mauled Low. It injected a comical feel, which I felt, was wrong for this scene. Low did a good job in playing the victim and was very passionate in his role. However, I thought that the show could go on quite well without this character (and this has got nothing to do with Low).

Micheline and Govindarajoo both played Pontianak while the very pregnant Pedley played the pregnant obsessive compulsive housewife and pontianak victim. Limosani settled on insect-like movements as the core dance vocabulary for the pontianaks. This worked particularly well in the scenes where the creatures were hidden and semi hidden by the cloths and in the scene where the Pontianak attacked the pregnant lady. The ‘unhumanly’ and contorted movements created visually disturbing images of the dancers.

Between Micheline and Govindarajoo, Micheline was the more convincing pontianak of the two. This was partly because of the characterisation – Micheline had the opportunity to become the only true pontianak as she attacked and devoured the pregnant lady; and for Govndarajoo, it was partly because of her winged costume. It gave her a certain stiffness that made her look like a predatory air-borne alien. And at the end of the Alien vs Pontianak tussle (in her character), the aliens won.

A delicate situation does apply to the amazing Pedley, who, 8 months into pregnancy, and against advice from well-meaning friends and family, insisted on performing. At the rate she was moving and shaking, she could have fooled the audience into thinking that she was simply acting the part. Her role was a breath of fresh air introducing theatrics proper into the dance. As the pregnant lady, she displayed a knack for keeping her house in order and does so by perpetually cleaning and shifting things around. She began to sense an evil presence in her home when she noticed that the item she moved was not in its place. It could be basic maternal instinct at play because Pedley acted out with conviction the fear and attempts to protect her unborn baby.

When I spoke to Limosani after the show, she said that there were areas that she felt can be improved on and felt quite relieved that everything went well despite the short time she had to put up the show. She praised the Malaysian dancers for their dedication and excellent work. Having enjoyed the process of creating this work, she has this to say to the audience, “Watch out for more horror!”

(D) Rasa Unmasked

2009-04-10T23:09:00.006+08:00

Rasa Unmasked
Australia Month
7 – 12 April 2009
Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre

Rasa Unmasked is the work of three pioneers of classical forms presented in the contemporary context. The show, held during the Australia Month at KLPac, is the result of collaborative efforts between Ramli Ibrahim, Artistic Director of Sutra Dance Theatre, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Anandavalli Sivanathan, Artistic Director of Lingalayam Dance Company, Sydney, Australia, and Alex Dea, Javanese gamelan specialist, Ethnomusicologist, Composer and Musician based in Indonesia.

The work tries to establish common grounds between Indian and Indonesian cultures and they found it in the blending of sounds, contemporary interpretation of classical dance forms and Rasa, or emotions. The universality of these three elements transcends racial and national barriers.

Pix by The Star

In particular, the work expounded on the Rasa theory and quite literally explored emotions such as Adbhuta (wonderment), Sringara (love), Veera (valour), Karuna (compassion), Hasya (laughter), Bibhatsa (disgust), Bhaya (fear), Raudra (anger), and Shanta (serenity).

Great care was taken to use certain classical dance genres to present a certain emotion. Odissi, with its more feminine style was used to portray wonderment, in a scene that represents birth, and fear, stereotyping women as weak. January Low was especially convincing in bhaya (fear) and even beneath the veiled costume, every muscle in her body suggested fear and oppression.

Bharatanatyam has a more masculine style and was naturally the preferred genre to project emotions of disgust and anger. However, the composition of these pieces were not refined making the dancers look rather clumsy.

Kuchipudi, the precursor to Odissi, was the choice of dance to describe the most basic of human emotion – love. In Anandavalli’s Kuchipudi solo, she mimed the words of the carnatic song to bring out fully, the courtesan’s passion and longing for love for the nayak (hero).

Ramli’s solo was the Balinese Baris (warrior) dance to display a hero’s valour. However, I thought Ramli does a better job at performing classical indian dance. This valour scene depended too much on the gawdy kavadi-like prop to exude the energy and confidence of a warrior instead of conveying the rasa through sound choreography. The outcome was, unfortunately, a strange peacock dance.

Attempts were made to evoke characters from the epic ramayana with movements taken from both Balinese and classical Indian dance styles. The approach of combining both classical dance styles was used to interpret the characters rama and ravana but somehow the execution of it was rather awkward and unnatural. On the other hand, the contemporary interpretation of masked monkey characters, representing Hanuman, the monkey god was beautifully done. The characters in themselves were not alien given the evident influence of hinduism in both cultures.

Rasa Unmasked not only brought together different dancing traditions but takes a step further to merge Javanese and Indian classical music to great effect. The combination of voice and classical instruments lends an interesting texture to the mood of the performance. In fact, I was more impressed with the scores than the choreography.

The dancers generally put up a commendable performance with the senior dancers carrying the rasa more profoundly than the younger ones. The choreography, I felt, had an obvious Sutra stamp on it. However, I am not familiar enough with Anandavalli’s works to identify her influence on the choreography and artistic direction.

All in, I was not entirely moved by the performance. The projection of rasa is one thing but making the audience feel it is quite another. While I applaud the concept and idea behind Rasa Unmasked, the choreography and overall execution did not make the audience feel the rasa. Not enough thought was put into examining the delivery of movements given its rich intercultural context. Hence, the full potential of rasa was largely untapped. What’s missing is an expert in Balinese dance who could provide invaluable insight into the element of rasa in Balinese dance. The performance was good but because of this missing element, it fell short of a standing ovation.

(D) Conquest of the Galaxy: Mars

2009-04-01T15:40:00.004+08:00

Conquest of the Galaxy: Mars
By Condors
19-21 March 2009
Pentas 1, KLPac

I’m always happy to spend an evening entertained by men. Thus, I had no resistance at all to the idea of a Friday-night conquest for Japanese testosterones that promises to be ‘sweaty,’ according to some reviews, and offers liberal use of shitck. I’m talking about the all-male Japanese contemporary dance troupe, Condors, founded by Ryohei Kondo in 1996, performing in Malaysia for the first time.

Apparently, wherever they go, Condor performances always send their audiences spinning with amazement, shock, and laughter with their trademark school uniforms, comedy, parodies of local clichés, and the use of overblown video imagery. It seems they are attempting to create a new form of dance and to push its boundaries for the 21st century.

Joseph Gonzales, a veteran figure in Kuala Lumpur’s dance scene, has been researching the meaning of ‘contemporary’ in its application to dance in Malaysia and to date, he admits, that a concrete definition remains elusive. It is a frightening coincidence, in my observation, that Gonzales choreographs similar works these days and also claims to be ‘pushing the boundaries.’

It would by hypocritical to rave about Conquest of the Galaxy: Mars (CGM) and disapprove of Gonzales’ Random (choreographed for Jamu 2008). Although high in entertainment value, I was rather disappointed with both works.

While Random was not to my liking, 9 to 5 an earlier work in similar format by Gonzales certainly rank amongst my favourites because of its excellent dance and entertainment value. Marion D’Cruz is the first person in Malaysia, to my knowledge, to seamlessly weave theatre into dance (sometimes more theatre than dance) without short-changing the audience of dance. Bravo! She had also put up numerous performances choreographed and performed by non-dancers. So the idea of putting stiff men on stage is nothing new. If CGM is the benchmark for contemporary dance, then these works by our Malaysian choreographers are certainly more deserving of a global tour.

Some may share my sentiments that we cannot fully appreciate CGM as a form of contemporary dance. I would appreciate contemporary dance as more dance than theatre, video, puppetry and contests; if not, then these other elements should add value to the quality of the dance performance in its’ totally, and not distract the audience away from dance. Anything less and the dance-going audience would feel short-changed. CGM was, to me, little more than an entertainment piece. You watch, you laugh, and you go home.

A noteworthy item in CGM was the concluding dance piece depicting a day at the beach. Here, Kondo displayed his ingenuity in using the human body to form objects (toilet bowl, surf board), and to illustrate the character of waves. Two men bundled up together to form a turtle laying eggs – a gem! Another burst of creativity was displayed in a football field scene - a man curled up into a ‘football’ and when kicked by the striker, he rolled in his curled up position, into the goal post.

The intermittent dance scenes were nothing to shout about. The choreographies featured some wannabe boy band-ish backup dancing to too-loud rock music and poor remakes of dance scenes from High School Musical (in fact, High School Musical was better).

Humour was abundant throughout this show but after a while, the formula becomes old, cliché and not so funny. For example “101 things to do with a toilet pump” was funny but the subsequent “101 things to do with a French loaf” in France, projected on video, was lame. Rotten Street, a mockery of Sesame Street was what it intended to be – rotten.

A friend in the Japanese dance scene told me that in Japan, Condors is defined as an “entertainment contemporary dance” company. The director, Kondo, appears in television programmes and so forth to reach out to a new target audience for contemporary dance (and not only to the culturally-inclined), and therefore his works are important.

Did Condors push the boundaries of dance? No. Did they reach new audiences in Malaysia? Judging from the packed theatre, I think the obvious answer is yes.

(D) Elephant in the Room - 2 January 2009

2009-02-27T17:31:00.007+08:00

ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM
Kwang Tung Dance Troupe & Mind Production
Jan 2-4
Pentas 2, KLPAC

THE elephant in the room’’ is an English idiom which describes a problem that everyone knows about but nobody wants to address. It suggests people in the room would rather pretend the “elephant’’ is not there by busying themselves with small issues instead of the looming one.

That said, the recently-concluded Elephant in the Room performance comprised two pieces of work, I Can Almost See the Light by Jay Jen, and No Exit by Amy Len. In all honesty, there was no way the audience could have ignored the “big picture’’ in this showcase.

Dance can be used as a means of social critique and Jen addressed this idiom with a farce, the more uncouth twin of satire. This was the only way to “see the light” in his piece, characterised by Chinese humour that few could appreciate, and the deliberate use of absurdity and broadly stylised dance movements.

Jen returned to Malaysia from Hong Kong in July 2005 and his experience as a professional dancer with the Hong Kong Dance Company, Cloud Gate Dance Theatre and Hong Kong City Contemporary Dance Company probably shaped the distinct Chinese flavour of his choreography.

In the story, as the idiom goes, the main problem was the society at large but the people could only see the magnified antics of the lunatic Lu Bao Bao, the main character. Her occupation was to blow balloons “with her head”, it seemed.

However, the voice-over for Lu displayed superb diction. Coupled with good acting, one could almost empathise with Lu’s innocent albeit twisted personal convictions.

But since not all the dancers could act, the performance was not as refined as that of professional farce actors. On the whole, the choreography was overshadowed by the theatrics of the piece, but one must praise the idea behind it.

The artistic direction of Len’s piece, No Exit, was remarkably simple but effective. Who would have thought that fluffy tutus could project the image of an elephant’s ears? With very little light on a somewhat dusty stage, the dancers, hunched forward in a horizontal row, projected a slow-motion scene of an elephant stampede.

The gentle swaying motion of their dangling arms imitated the movement of the elephant’s trunk. To show entrapment, fast and furious movements ensued with hands wildly pushing and shoving the head until at last the hands came to a rest, clasped together in front of their faces. Accompanying the flashing movements were desperate and sharp breaths of air, clearly audible to the audience. The tone of the music was dramatic and cinematic; and together with the lighting, Len succeeded in presenting the struggle for the unattainable.

What was exciting to see was that the number of dancers of both genders had grown, and that the overall production quality of the 28-year-old Kwang Tung Dance Troupe continues to improve.

And the troupe also stayed true to its objective to cultivate and promote local performing arts by providing a platform for the newly established dance company, Mind Production (founded in 2008 by Jen) to showcase its work.

(D) Pebbles 5 - Nov 10

2008-11-17T09:00:00.002+08:00

THE regulars in the audience at a RiverGrass Dance Academy production know not to expect professional dancers on stage, except for the academy’s founder herself, Mew Chang Tsing.

After founding the academy in 1996 and staging several productions, Mew developed a strong belief that anyone can use dance to explore and discover his or her own identity.

Out of that belief came the Pebbles series that allows all the students at her academy as well as at other dance and theatrical schools to perform on stage before a live audience.

Hence, Pebbles 5’s loosely structured and heavily improvisational programme with the younger students performing dances called Fairies, Hula Hoop, and Water Hyacinth and with Mew’s older contemporary dance students presenting Lady in Red.

What we saw on Monday night at the Actors Studio Bangsar, Kuala Lumpur, was essentially raw material and spur-of-the-moment dance creation. I especially liked the attempts made by the young ones to “feel” the music and be moved by it.

Associates of MyDance Alliance added variety to the programme while the Nanyang University Alumni Social Dance Group led by Mew’s mother presented two items, Golden Hip Hop and Line Dance. They showed everyone that even the old are happening, groovy, and fashionable.

Silat by Astana 7 was a choreographed performance featuring silat exponents moving to music with exciting drum beats. Like break dance, there was always a “challenge” component in it. The Elsa Dance Company presented Flashy, a belly dance performed by two sexy ladies in flashy Middle-Eastern costumes.

The highlight of the evening, though, was Mew’s performance, a new solo work entitled Tunnel Through Time: A Study of a Woman’s Spine. Thankfully, her piece was not as long as her title! In quiet and still contemplation, Mew literally profiled a woman. The side projection cast a melancholic silhouette on the wall as Mew danced within the confines of a small space.

The study saw Mew in various poses akin to those featured in calcium and osteoporosis advertisements. The side-view position that she took gave us a clear outline of the spine being depicted. Her deliberate slouches formed the shape of an “old” spine and then, in a quick reversal of “time”, she squatted and wrapped herself in a foetal position, depicting the growth of the “young” spine.

There is no happy ending for this bony body part as the tunnel through time only shows a sad conclusion at its end. Mew’s slow-moving, weighty movements mirrored the spine’s inevitable painful deterioration over time.

To me, it was a simple yet moving performance that showed just how important the thought process is a successful improvisation piece, as the dancer needs to have an idea or a basis for improvisation. Otherwise, it would just be meaningless movements on stage.

While this work reflects Mew’s personal journey along her own ageing process, the Pebbles series, on the other hand, is a platform that encourages the growth of her young dance students.

I hope great things will come of this small little stepping stone.

Photos by KAMAL SELLEHUDDIN / The Star

(D) The Nutcracker Ballet 2008 - Sept 6

2008-09-11T00:10:00.002+08:00

Dance Space, a dancing school in Klang, founded by Datin Jane Ng in 1992, presented The Nutcracker Ballet 2008 last weekend at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPac). The first production, Magic Shoes, two years ago, gave them the experience and confidence to produce their second. This time around, they looped in choreographer Steve Goh, winner of four BOH Cameronian Awards in 2007, and renowned music producer Chor Guan Ng to choreograph and compose for the ballet.

The Nutcracker ballet is based on the story The Nutcracker and the King of Mice, written by Ernst Theodor Wilhelm Hoffmann, better known by his pen name E.T.A. Hoffman. He was a German Romantic author of fantasy and horror. Hoffmann’s stories were tremendously influential in the 19th century and he was one of the key authors of the Romantic Movement. The story is about a young German girl who dreams of a Nutcracker Prince and the fierce battle against the Mouse King with seven heads. Russian balletmasters Lev Ivanovich Ivanov (1834 – 1901) and Marius Ivanovich Petipa (1818 – 1910) were credited with choreographing the premiere of The Nutcracker in 1892.

To this day, this story is much loved and oft performed worldwide. Although there are different interpretations, the basic plot remains.

In Goh’s interpretation, the ballet traces a little girl’s experience and journey with a toy turned Prince during Christmas. During a fun Christmas party, Claire (Chew Zi Xin) receives a nutcracker toy as a present from a magician (Tan Chai Chen). Claire’s jealous sister snatched the toy and eventually broke it. Heartbroken, she places the toy aside and goes to sleep. She awoke in the middle of the night to see that her toy had turned into a Prince (Chen Fun Yen) and was being attacked by the King of Mice. Seeing that the Prince was badly outnumbered, she came to his rescue and fought off the King of Mice. Then, Clara and the Prince travelled through a snowy land in which they meet the Sugar Plum Fairy, who welcomed them and entertained them with Chinese, Arabian, Spanish and Russian dances.

Goh’s neo-classical choreography was not technically difficult; which was ideal for this production because there were very few senior dancers, a lot of intermediate dancers and plenty of kids. However, the flow of the performance, the delightful costumes and wonderful props all created a fantasy wonderland that all kids, and even adults enjoyed. But this is how it should be, as The Nutcracker is, after all, a ballet designed for children.

The kids have plenty to do in the ballet, and they do it well. But even if they’ve missed a beat or a step, it is very easy to forgive because they all looked so adorable. One of the more memorable scenes was when the kids, dressed as dirty little brown mice, came out en masse to fight with the toys. The coordination work was very impressive for such a large group.

The older students performed the Grand pas items, dances that do not directly contribute to the ballet’s story. They were the snow princesses dressed in white tutus with sleeves of dangling tiny snow balls. They opened the scene impersonating snow on Christmas Eve, and the formed pathways for Claire and the Prince in the scene of snowy forests. Together, they formed very elegant figures offering smooth transitional entertainment for scene to scene continuity.

What made this production memorable were the minor characters. At the Christmas party, the magician brought out some life-size wind-up dolls to entertain the kids. The older performers managed the jerky motions of the dolls while keeping en pointe.

17-year old Chew was delightful to watch and proved dance-worthy of the principal role she took. Chew was almost flawless in terms of execution and she showed good showmanship with her brilliant smile. Together with Chen, they delivered several impressionable pas de duex (duet) items. Chew was also the better actor of the two.

As usual, there were shortage of danseurs (male dancers), and for the duets, Chew, Tan Yeong Kiean and Jensen Goi, were invited as guest dancers. Tan and Goi performed the Spanish dance.

There were two local ballet productions (including The Nutcracker Ballet 2008) within this year. The number of participants in each production is huge numbering at least 160 each. It would be exciting to have Malaysia’s first professional ballet company. And, I think the time is ripe enough to ask for one.

(D) Devi: In Absolution - Aug 23

2008-09-11T00:07:00.002+08:00

If dance was a sport, Mavin Khoo could easily have won a gold medal and a datukship. To prove his weight, he had the audacity to compete for audience against the closing ceremony of the spectacular Beijing Olympics last weekend; and managed to garner a full auditorium of fans.

Devi: In Absolution was his first full-length production (1.5 hours) since he returned to Malaysia. It was performed in aid of Pusaka, a non-profit organization established by his brother, Eddin Khoo, to conduct research and create a comprehensive documentary archive of traditional performance in Malaysia.

Mavin’s fascination of Devi as a child grew into an infatuation, which later led him to create Devi: The Female Principle with French choreographer Laurent Cavanna for the Venice Biennale in 2006. That work was a duet in neo-classical ballet form. To further investigate the subject matter, he turned towards literally works and scholars in Chennai. The manifestation of his research is Devi: In Absolution, a solo bharatanatyam which depicts three aspects of Devi: Meenakshi, the child and the bride, Durga the warrior, and Kali the destroyer.

O.S. Arun, one of the most gifted Carnatic musicians in the country, opened the curtain to a black and white film with his sonorous voice. The film portrayed Mavin in a foetal position, then on all fours. It was symbolic of a child being born of mother Devi. An eerie figure of a woman in a red sari appears to shadow Mavin. The representation of Devi should be kept symbolic because the mystery and awe one feels towards a Goddess is immediately lost in the appearance of an imperfect human form. The most effective use of this media was the touch of a woman’s finger sliding down Mavin’s back on film, and his reaction towards it in live performance. Mavin’s stood still with his back facing the white screen. The visual stillness easily achieves what people say, ‘less is more.’ A slight twitch of facial expression reacting to the woman’s touch connects film and stage.

The mood of the first act, Meenakshi was cheerful and playful. Mavin chose the basic stances and movements of bharatanatyam, packaged it in a light-hearted sequence; and repeats the sequence with increasing speed. His palms, painted in red, drew imaginary red lines as he drew circles in the air. He depicted the image of a curious child, his hands always forming and feeling various ‘shapes.’ He would open up containers and peer into it. In a communal scene, he would sit in a circle, talking, chatting and thoroughly enjoying company.

In the next scene, the ‘child’ shows off his dancing skills in a series of complex footwork. He explores isolation, treating his right leg and feet like a creature separate from his body. This ‘creature’ moves to Arun’s voice like a snake would to a snake charmer’s hypnotic music.

The story of the bride was less exciting, focusing mainly on stoking her hair and playing a musical instrument. Perhaps it is my bias against nritya, which does more storytelling and portrayal of moods.

The second act which featured Durga and Kali displayed none of the aura of innocence that the first had. It was difficult to negotiate the image of femininity with such masculine motives. There was a lot of energy, just like the first act. But instead, this energy spells power and domination. In fact, the territorial nature was subtly implied in the use of space which Mavin covered with extensive travelling.

Movements were subdued in the next scene. Mavin shifted slowly from pose to pose behind the white screen that projected the black and white film earlier. A strong beam of light cast down vertically on him. Initially, my eyes was on Mavin but Arun’s commanding presence became more and more obvious in the absence of movements and my eyes riveted to him. In this particular piece that he sung, he whipped up such musical personality that even Mavin faded into the backdrop.

In the concluding scene, Mavin danced with such violent fury, stomping the world flat with his feet and slashing everything that comes in his way. On film, bloodshed was shown quite literally, as a consequence of such destructive force. On stage the red dust that the world is reduced to pours down on Mavin.

One can read a dancer from the way he dances; and Mavin is a perfectionist. His drive to excel makes him a flawless and impeccable dancer. It shows in the perfect lines, total control over his body and minute attention to detail. All these are the makings of a world-class dancer. And in this piece, he deserves standing ovation.

(D) Tracing - Aug 1

2008-08-05T16:06:00.003+08:00

Tracing: Dance Dialogues in Singapore and South Africa
1 & 2 August 2008
Fonteyn Studio Theatre

Pix source: Rimbun Dahan

What does a South African and a Singaporean have in common? Not much really.

Mcebisi Bhayi is a South African Xhosa man who swears by his customs and clings to his roots while Joey Chua is a modern Singaporean woman grappling with her Chinese Hakka identity, or perhaps, the lack of it.

So when the two got together in a dance collaboration project, one would expect a mammoth task in merging the two cultures and mindsets. But they got along like duck to water.

Tracing is still work-in-progress and like a reality show, we audience get to butt in and comment on their progress after the 25-minute preview.

On the preview

The duo got straight into action with continuous and energetic movements in School of Fish. The modern and contemporary vocabularies evident in this segment were indeed the language that helps them find common ground despite their cultural, physical and psychological differences. Throughout, they kept a safe distance from each other as they chug along (somewhat like their choice of music) while going through identical sequences in this tight choreography. This no-contact dance perhaps spells the need to respect each others’ space while trying to get into each others’ minds.

Two solos ensued; first by Mcebisi and then Joey. Mcebisi’s Speaking with Amadlozi (Ancestors) is African-contemporary, and naturally, it displayed the energy and body language very much attuned to his African roots. He painted the setting of ‘home’ with mimicry of farmers sowing seeds and described watering holes and wild animals with his actions. But this young man was not feeling at home at all. He was angry, suspicious and wanted to run away from it all. The intense performance aroused my emotions if not his ancestors.

Joey’s solo, Precious very much described her growing years living in a controlled environment. The good intention of typical Asian families to dote on their kids (to suffocating levels) took a negative turn and brought out their worst instead of their best. They learn to lie, rebel and are constantly on vigil to cover up each lie. Joey’s svelte figure accentuated her anxious movements, having to be, always ‘on her toes.’ We hear and see her suffocation from the rope tied around her neck and the ‘heavy-breathing’ music.

Tracing consist primarily of contact work and we see how the two grapple with coming to terms and accepting each other. The conflict on stage says ‘I-love-you-I-hate-you’ and sometimes ‘I-like-you-but-I’m-not-sure-I-can-live-with-you.’ It is this fight in tracing each others’ minds and bodies that sparked off an interesting ‘conversation’ in their dance vocabulary.

The dance may require some site specific improvisations given that they use the studio’s walls, curtains, bars and such in their interaction with space.

Discussions

Although the audience was very small, the discussion was very animated. Questions posed included the duration of the final presentation and the ability to sustain the intensity if extended beyond its current length. The dancers considered a full-length piece of one hour but the FNB Dance Umbrella 2009, the festival in which they would perform their finished work had set a maximum time limit of 35 minutes.

In terms of the use of voice, Joey admitted that it was an amateurish attempt and she looks forward to working with a dramaturg to help them refine both text and speech.

While Mcebisi’s characterization was very clear, Joey’s was rather vague. The audience suggested a stronger characterization on Joey’s part of either showing a more prominent side of her roots or to prominently show her struggle of grappling with her identity.

Mcebisi shared that it was very enlightening working with Joey as they approach choreography very differently. Mcebisi tends to address the movements first whereas Joey wants to question the each step.

When asked if the finished work would look anything like what was presented, Joey said that she did not like to take the easy way out in choreography and she will constantly experiment to see what works and what doesn’t. She even challenged Mcebisi to deconstruct the entire dance while she is away for another residency.

Would that affect the synergy necessary for the success of a duet? An audience noted that he felt moments of disconnect between the two.

Last words

It was a pity that so few were there to share and contribute to the creative development of this dance. The involvement of audience in the choreography process certainly gave them a sense of ownership in this project and they all wanted to see the finished work. Audience involvement in choreography may be the way to go to promote ‘audienceship’ of completed works.

(D) Stirring Odissi - Jun 13

2008-06-15T15:42:00.007+08:00

STIRRING ODISSI
May 21-June 14, various venues

This is the first Gotipua performance in Malaysia

ANY fan of the classical Indian dance form of Odissi would have been in seventh heaven in the last few weeks. Stirring Odissi 2008, the country’s biggest ever Odissi festival, presented performances, exhibitions, and talks galore, all centred on this ancient dance style.

The festival was held in conjunction with the 50th anniversary of Malaysia-India diplomatic relations. It was presented by Sutra Dance Theatre, which is celebrating its own anniversary, the 25th, this year.

Run over three weeks and encompassing various venues in the Klang Valley (with one performance in Penang), Stirring Odissi brought together some of the world’s most accomplished and renowned Odissi dancers as well as musicians, visual artists, scholars, and enthusiasts of the dance from across the globe.

Madhavi Mudgal’s brilliant choreography for the Gandharva Mahavidyalaya Repertoire created a contemporary feel while using the traditional syllabus

Odissi certainly has many admirers, for it is a breathtakingly beautiful form of dance. It was originally developed in the temple of Jagannath in Orissa, East India, as a form of worship and meditation.
The dance form was kept alive, first, by the Maharis, and then the Gotipuas.

The Maharis were devadasis (chosen servants of god) who would sing and dance for the deity Krishna. They performed dance sequences that expressed lyrics from the Gita Govinda, an epic written by 12th century poet Jayadev.

Various reasons have been presented by academicians to explain why the Mahari tradition died out to be replaced by the Gotipua tradition. The latter tradition arose from the fact that the Maharis never performed outside the temple’s grounds; instead, they taught the dance to Gotipuas, young boys dressed as girls.

It was these performers who took the dance into the public milieu. Odissi was seen for the first time outside the temple in the early 16th century.

By the 1940s, however, Odissi was on the verge of extinction. But some might say this might have been a blessing in disguise – for the determined spirit of Odissi re-emerged to dance with even more beauty and pride than before, thanks to a handful of great gurus of Orissa.

Odissi now encompasses both the traditional and the contemporary. It has stood the test of time and evolved into a truly living classical art. It has found acclaim and international audiences, effectively dissolving national, racial, and religious boundaries.

In Malaysia, through renowned dancer Ramli Ibrahim, Sutra Dance Theatre has been at the epicentre of the flowering of Odissi. Ramli can be credited with creating immense interest in this dance form as well as nurturing talented exponents of it.

Ramli must have been proud indeed to see Stirring Odissi 2008 take place: The festival was a red-carpet Odissi affair involving eminent scholars, dance critics, dancers, and distinguished rasikas (audience).

Talking about the dance

The Seminar Series had sufficient fuel for robust intellectual discourse with topics presented by India representatives Sunil Kothari, leading dance historian, scholar, author, and dance critic of Indian classical dance; Shanta Serbjeet Singh, senior arts columnist and critic, author, and cultural activist; Ashish Mohan Khokar, author, dance critic, and dance publisher; Sitakant Mohapatra, acclaimed Oriya poet and critic; and many others.

The panel sessions were facilitated by prominent Malaysian arts practitioners and educationists such as Alex Dea, Joseph Gonzales, Marion D’Cruz, Mohd Anis Md Nor, and Soubhagya Pathy.

Some of the key issues discussed by speakers, panellists, and members of the audience include concerns about the difficulty of fundraising for supportive and educational activities. While some fretted over the nature of “evil, capitalist corporations”, others raised the need to compromise and to find an alignment between a potential donor’s goals and that of the performance or art form seeking funding.

Many arts practitioners were new to the concept of corporate social responsibility (CSR), and were delighted to find that this would be a good avenue of funding and sponsorship.

I feel it’s a little unfair to tar all corporations with the same brush – after all, Stirring Odissi 2008 was presented in part by Maxis. And the fact that the telco did not insist on calling the event “The Maxis Odissi Festival” shows that some corporations are willing to allow their beneficiaries a free hand, and that they do attempt to give back to society earnestly.

Some voiced out their concern about the possible disappearance of the innocence and authenticity of the Gotipua tradition.

The threat actually lies in the increasing “sophistication” of the dance, and its irreversible effect. Parallels were drawn with our own Mak Yong tradition; that is, the “urban” Mak Yong is more “sophisticated” than those that taught and performed in rural areas.

Although innovation in any ancient art form is to be encouraged, the preservation of authenticity is of even more importance because of the irreversibility that “sophistication” has on dance.

The most hotly debated topic was Cultivation of a New Audience and Making Odissi Relevant in the 21st Century. The Indian panellists raised concerns about the fact that the dance is losing its audience (and dancers!) in India, and applauded the fact that there has been some measure of success in gaining a new audience for Odissi in Malaysia.

Ajith Bhaskaran Das, a Malaysian bharatanatyam and Odissi dancer based in Johor, offered his theory on today’s “restless contemporary audience”, and said that there is a need to repackage the Odissi repertoire to suit changing audience tastes.

Doing the dance

The festival showcased the grace, energy, and artistry of some of the world’s most renowned Odissi gurus and dancers.

It was humbling to be in the presence of Guru Minati Misra and Guru Gangadhar Pradhan, who had received training from the first generation of modern Odissi gurus such as Guru Pankaj Charan Das, Guru Debaprasad Das, and Guru Kelucharan Mahapatra.

Female and male solos as well as group performances were presented at Gandhiki Hall, Penang; Amphi-Sutra, KL; the Malaysia Tourism Centre, KL; and the KL Performing Arts Centre.

The performances that I found most enchanting were Rituvasant, a duet performed by female dancers Bijayini Satpathy and Surupa Sen (on June 8), and the Gandharva Mahavidyalaya Repertoire (June 11), a group performance choreographed by Madhavi Mudgal.

Rituvasant is a pure dance that expresses the freshness and lyricism of Spring set against a backdrop of intricate paper-cut patterns.

The choreography was tightly knit, and exhibited great tandava (masculine) energies despite being performed by women.

The dance played on symmetry and asymmetrical patterns befitting a duet, and accentuated the tribhangi (a pose formed with three “bends” of the body) to great sexy effect.

Both dancers exhibited the kind of charisma that keeps the eyes of the audience affixed on them.
Despite being based on a traditional syllabus, Madhavi’s choreography for the Gandharva Mahavidyalaya Repertoire created a contemporary feel with its exploration of space and use of unique music.

The first item, the slow and easy going Kalyan, created the ambience of an evening walk through the fields.

The second item, Aakaar Prakaar, had sections that reminded me of parachute formations, when skydivers come together to create a shape and then break away quickly.

Dance literature was also sold at the festival. Some of the titles include Attendance by Ashish Mohan Khokar, India’s only Dance Annual, and Rethinking Odissi, by Dr Dinanath Pathy, a study that strives to understand Odissi dance at the advent of the 21st century.

Stirring Odissi 2008 marks an important milestone in the history of our nation’s performing arts, and that is, the recognition of Malaysia by India as a growth centre of Odissi.

‘Stirring Odissi 2008’ was presented by Maxis and the Sutra Dance Theatre. The exhibition of multi-media works centred on the theme of Odissi is still on at the Galeri Petronas and will continue until June 22.

All pictures: from The Star.

(D) My Calling, My Stage, My Act - May 2

2008-06-15T11:40:00.002+08:00

My Calling, My Stage, My Act, a solo dance performance by Loi Chin Yu, was staged at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPac) last weekend.

Loi is a fine arts graduate and set designer. He acquired his dance training from the Kwangsi Association (Malaysia). His dance credits include The Tree, Lady White Snake – The Revenge, When Durian meet Banana, Red Banquet, Four Men One Face, and SeeSaw, amongst others. After a four-year hiatus from the stage, Loi was itching to dance again.

For this Taoism-inspired performance, Loi decided on a one-leg-kick approach - he was Artistic Director, Choreographer, Performer and Set Designer. However, playing too many roles actually worked against him. The outcome of the performance merely encapsulated the saying, “Jack of all trades and master of none.”

I felt that, if Loi’s intention was to make a comeback in dance, then he should have focused all his energies on creating a more enriching dance experience, both as a journey for himself as well as for the audience.

The dance itself did not move me, pique my interest, nor enlightened me. The rich philosophies and rituals of Taoism, I felt, were either not thoroughly addressed or not properly conveyed. The sword-wielding and kung fu antics were completely random and looked like a rejected scene from the now screening (in cinemas) Three Kingdoms and Forbidden Kingdom.

Loi’s space was framed in an elevated platform that somewhat resembled a boxing ring. It may not be an award-winning set, but at the least, it served its purpose as a confined dance space.

The lighting was badly designed. It was blinding and distracting. And worse, the rock concert ambience did not gel with the Taoism concept.

The first part of the dance was action-packed with the Eastern element clearly and strongly projected. The song that accompanied the dance was a modernized Japanese piece that had both a rustic and modern feel to it. The second half of the dance was the complete reverse. Loi knelt down before what seemed like an altar and stayed still through an entire song. The choice of song used at this juncture was a very mushy English number that produced a sense of hair-raising tackiness. It contradicted and destroyed the Eastern concept that Loi was working on earlier. His exit strategy was predictable and was not well thought-out.

And when it finished, I left feeling rather dissatisfied.

(D) Passion - Mac 28

2008-06-15T11:23:00.002+08:00

Judimar Hernandez (Laura) and Steve Goh (Young Man)

Pix source: The Star

The passionate Tango from Argentina has enjoyed its share of popularity with Hollywood hits danced by Al Pacino in “Scent of a Woman,” Arnold Schwarzenegger in “True Lies,” and Richard Gere and Jennifer Lopez in “Shall We Dance.” But none came close to Carlos Saura’s award-winning “Tango,” a film that was beautifully conceived and meticulously executed to capture the dramatic power and physical presence of the dance with unforgettable style.

This film also inspired “Passion,” a production brought together by two of the most respected artistes in Malaysia’s performing arts scene – director Joe Hasham and choreographer Judimar Hernandez. The dance drama, held last weekend at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPac), featured a cast of Malaysia’s more popular performing artistes including Hernandez (Laura) herself, Joseph Gonzales (Maestro), Aris Kadir (Mario), Amy Len (Elena), Steve Goh (Young Man), Elaine Pedley, Nell Ng, Lou Chi Yu, and Thou Chun (dancers) and Dalili Azahari (student).

The dance format is contemporary: for most part, it’s Tango without shoes, signalling liberation from the clutches of tradition. It was also not Tango per se but draws the essence of the dance heavily as a metaphor to reflect the weaknesses of humanity.

The tango is a dance of sensual exchange: it is sexy, promiscuous and predatory. Its couplings and sudden isolations portray the complexities in gender relations. Tango’s innate physicality is in the interlacing of legs and the balancing of bodies as they collide. There is also the element of control and surrender – the man leads and the woman is led. But yet, there is also mutual dependence as two figures glides across the dance floor with legs dovetailing salaciously. Tango has both a light and sinister side. Of the two, the dark aspect was more thoroughly lubricated to ejaculate powerful, passionate expressions.

And so, under Hasham’s direction, the narrative thread which ties the whole performance together with this metaphor, explores the meaning of ‘passion’ going beyond the simple love triangle of requited and unrequited love; and going beyond safe, vanilla lives.

Mario, the principal dancer of a dance company is desperately in love with Laura. From the first moment he laid eyes on her he knew that he wanted her. For two years, they had the most passionate of relationships but one night, for reasons that Mario cannot comprehend, Laura announces that the relationship is over. Mario is devastated.

The story is set in a dance studio, similar to than in Saura’s Tango, where the company is in a rehearsal for a major production. Mario sees his lost relationship reflected in everything that happens during rehearsals: he sees a competitor in the Young Man and tries to find solace in the sensuous and mysterious Elena.

In the dance studio scenes, we clearly see that not every dancer had the flair for Tango. And that was not deliberate: a certain ‘stiffness’ persists. ‘Sexy’ is just who you are and not what you try to do.

The smouldering sultriness of Tango comes (not from the swivelling of tight behinds but) from the passionate embrace of dance partners Laura and ‘the young man,’ whose faces were pressed intimately close and whose entwined bodies delight in sensual caress. The music evokes an air of romance with just a tinge of sadness, characterizing frustrated love; in which the only reprieve is release through wild abandon. However, this scene, which Mario looks on with burning jealousy, could have been more erotic had the Young Man fully reciprocated.

Mario, disgusted with the coupling act, conveyed the feeling of pain through the quiet poise of Tango, and showed his indignation through crisp footwork and aristocratic elegance.

Amy Len (left) a Elena

Pix source: The Star

Elena was portrayed as the slut that goes for any man, or woman - first Mario, then the Maestro, and lastly Laura. The ending was therefore, predictable. Laura was much better off in a heterosexual role versus a homosexual one. The relationship between Elena and Laura was more sisterly than intense, ending the drama with a fizzle rather than a climatic end that was suppose to follow a passionate ‘fore’ play.

(D) Harihara - In Love with Vishnu and Siva - Mac 23

2008-06-15T11:16:00.003+08:00

I’m inclined to call this show a part of the Mavin Khoo Emerging Talent Series. This is of course, not official. But since Khoo’s return to Malaysia recently, he has been fishing out talented Malaysian dancers (classical Indian dance), nurturing them, and giving them a platform to perform and to carve a career in dance.

In the second show of this ‘series,’ Khoo collaborates with Shangita Namasivayam, founder of Kalpana Dance Theatre (KDT) to present Daisygarani Vijayakumaran. The Bharatanatyam performance was held last Sunday at Auditorium Tunku Abdul Rahman, MATIC, Kuala Lumpur. All pieces were choreographed by Khoo except the first item.

This is Daisyga’s second solo appearance, after SHARIRA – My Body, My Temple in 2006, held in Sutra. In HARIHARA, Daisyga explores the different possibilities of the relationship between the human and the divine, dramatically revealed through some of the most beautiful compositions in Karnatic music. It further juxtaposes two deities; ‘Hari’(Vishnu), which represents preservation, and ‘Hara’ (Shiva), which represents destruction.

In Todaya Mangalam choreographed by Padmashri Adyar K Lakshman, she performed an invocatory dance to Vishnu from a kid’s-eye-view, injecting something refreshing into the familiar. The quick movements naturally followed the joyful treatment and the very youthful interpretation of this piece, which makes it very engaging to watch.

In what seemed like a very long Varnam, Varnam: Sami Ninne Kori frames the conceptual theme of “love in separation.” The drama of this emotion was enfolded starting with the more traditional choreography incorporating Bharatanatyam’s more basic movements. The body language used was literal and easy to understand. One particular gesture was intentionally used extensively; I thought this was rather exploratory and creative. At this point, Khoo on nattuvangam sang his part in a rather hushed and deep tone injecting a sense of suspense into the ambience. Daisyga looks as if she’s enjoying herself as she immerses herself in Khoo's guiding voice. I maintain that it is always exciting to watch her facial expressions. There is never a dull moment.

In the middle of this piece is where the great storytelling starts. Daisyga sat down on center stage and using only her upper body, hands and head, she describes the distance of a travelling arrow and where it hit. A lot of ‘space’ was covered while staying put on one spot.

Yaro Ivar Yaro briefly describes the point where Princess Seeta gets a first glimpse of Rama. Daisyga plays the curious onlooker, who feelings of desire for Rama grow the more she ponders. This story is taken from Ramayana, an ancient Sanskrit epic, in which the principal characters are Rama and Seeta.

The feelings towards a man could not be compared to the consummating power of desire for the love of a deity, Krishna. In Ashtapadi: Sakhiya Kesi Madana Mudaram, Radha is engulfed with rage and guilt and torment waiting for Krishna’s fickle love. Sick of waiting, she climbs hills and valleys to find Krishna. And when she does her is anger quickly dissipated; her heart is at peace finally, in his arms. It’s a strange thing, this obsession for Krishna. No man would enjoy such tolerance for infidelity. Daisyga managed to engage the audience by keeping them in suspense on what her next emotion or reaction would be towards Krishna.

In the last piece, Thillana, Khoo first profiles the dancer putting her in poise and balance projecting straight body lines. These were followed by turns and footwork danced to the HARIHARA theme song. Daisyga tackled all these with ease, thus concluding the night with great applause.

(D) Transcendance - Mac 18

2008-06-15T11:11:00.003+08:00

TRANSCENDANCE – REFLECTIONS ON THE SENSOUS SELF & SUBLIME SPIRIT

Geetha Shankaran-Lam in TrancenDance

Pix Source: The Star

TranscendAnce marks a new chapter for the school of dance at the Temple of Fine Arts (TFA): they finally have a repertoire to call their own. But then, what were the other wonderful works that the TFA dancers were learning and performing all these while?

For one, it’s Ramli Ibrahims’, Malaysia’s very own classical Indian dance doyen. Geetha Shankaran-Lam, one of Ramli’s foremost students, received many generous ‘gifts’ from him. And others, works and/or styles of legendary visitors that visited TFA, including Guru Kelucharan Mohapartra, Guru Durga Charan Ranbir, Leena and Leesa Mohanty, Rahul Acharya, and others, who hail from Orissa, India, the land of Odissi.

Late last year, TFA commissioned Guru Durga Charan Ranbir to choreograph several pieces of work that they could call their own. Last weekend, at Panggung Bandaraya, Kuala Lumpur, Geetha, TFA’s Head of Odissi, presented the first repertoire of these works in her interpretation called TranscendAnce. Most of these works, meant for solo, was reworked by Geetha for a group.

Mangalacaran, the opening dance which is usually invocatory, gives honor to Lord Shiva using the spiritual metaphor, the swan or hamsa. Dancers personified the swan arching their backs and fluttering their arms. This distinct feature promises an Odissi version of Swan Lake, which I thought would be an interesting idea and a challenge to explore. However, since TranscendAnce follows the traditional Odissi structure, this metaphor was explored only sporadically in some pieces. This choreography must be a challenge to some of the younger dancers performing this piece as towards the end, a few began to tire and cheated on some fine details.

Sakhi He Keshi Madhana Mudharam is based on Jeyadeva’s Gita Govinda sung daily during worship at the Puri Jagannath temple in Orissa for centuries. It stands as the apex of inspiration for the arts. The music has provocative beats that creates lush erotic imagery and describes the human depiction of the Divine Romance between Krishna and Radha. This choreography describes Radha’s obsession with Krishna through her shameless imagination and erotic fantasy, which was accompanied by poetic narration further seducing us with explicit descriptions of lovemaking. Guru Durga Charan had chosen a storyline that is easier to describe through words than dance, and it would take someone as experienced as Geetha to pull it off. Pity I was sitting quite far away. The expressions were too faint and I could not enjoy the rasa, which was the crux of the piece.

Admittedly, I have a bias for Pallavis (pure dance). This is where the spirit and energy of dance truly comes out. This Pallavi is set to the Keervani raag, a typical South Indian scale, which has an elegant and carefree mood. Two voices maintained throughout this piece; one carrying the melody and the other, the rhythm. It was quite exciting to watch the dancers interspersing between moving to rhythm and moving to melody. Quick tribanghis were punctuated with strong accents creating very clear visual representation of dancing sculptures, and not just ‘dancing the sculpture’. The giant lotuses that made up the stage props, conjures an image of Thumbelinas dancing on a giant pod on a lake under a full moon. Such is the free spirit and carefree mood of this piece.

Anila Tarala is also a nritya piece, this time a duet. Radha pours out her feelings on her suffering of separation from Radha to her confidante. This piece has a conversational feel, each dancer reacting or rather, responding to the other as Radha expresses her woes.

The Arabhi Pallavi was reinterpreted by Parveen Nair and Geetha and was performed solo by the latter. It is always a joy to watch Geetha dance. A seasoned dancer stands out simply by virtue of how confident and comfortable she is with her body and every move she makes especially the beautiful turns and excellent footwork. Geetha masterfully maintains the nritta of this piece by not over-personifying the many moments of beauty and joy of a maiden picking and making garlands out of fragment flowers.

Radharani Sanghe Naache was the least appealing of all the works presented. It leans a bit too close to ‘Bollywood’ for my liking. It was rather difficult to tell Krishna from the gopis. And because of this difficult differentiation, it is easy to generalize (unfortunately) that the character of Krishna (or all the Krishnas!) was only too playful and childish.

Well, this is still the first repertoire. In time to come, we’ll see more exciting interpretations.

(D) Madhurya - Jan 25

2008-02-02T00:28:00.000+08:00

Young dancer Hemavathi shows great potential as she plays out the love story in Madhurya.

For a 19-year-old, Hemavathi Sivanesan displayed plenty of maturity as a dancer when she performed Madhurya – the Sacred Feminine in a Journey of Love recently at The Actors Studio, Bangsar Shopping Centre, Kuala Lumpur. The show was presented by the Temple of Fine Arts.

Hemavathi was spotted during her arangetram (solo debut) last September by Mavin Khoo, Malaysia’s very own veteran and critically-acclaimed classical Indian dancer. Khoo immediately proposed a project to further hone her creativity and emotive imagination.

Khoo is back in Malaysia for yet another short stint and it seems his mission this time is to promote and encourage emerging artistes such as Hemavathi. Madhurya was specially choreographed by Khoo for her.

Hemavathi studied ballet for 15 years and bharatanatyam for 13 years. Interestingly, Khoo started dance at the Temple of Fine Arts when he was seven years old under the tutelage of Vasuki Sivanesan, who is Hemavathi’s mother and dance teacher.

Coming full circle, Khoo now guides Hemavathi as guru and nattuvanar (rhythm master) playing the nattuvangam, small cymbals that sound out the detailed rhythm of the feet.

Madhurya is a solo bharatanatyam piece with more drama than dance. It explores the many complex layers and nuances of the female soul. The theme of love echoed throughout the five pieces, presented in two acts. I found that Hemavathi danced better in the first act and “acted” better in the second.

In Varnam (in act one), she displayed terrific spirit, stamina and strength, and great mastery of technique. Hemavathi tackled Khoo’s difficult and sometimes even punishing choreography with practised perfection and completed it with only faint signs of fatigue.

However, to accomplish this feat, I felt that the emotive part was compromised, somewhat. The feeling of empathy that she was trying to create for the yearning-for-love heroine role could not be sustained throughout.

In Padam (in act two), however, Hemavathi embodied the confident and no-nonsense woman calling for Krishna to come to her grandly. Coaxing Krishna gently, she looked every bit a mother persuading a guilty child.

Given the maturity that she displayed as a young dancer, I would say Hemavathi should certainly be given every encouragement to pursue a career in dance. And, thanks to the strong support from her mentor and the entire arts institution, I’m sure, for her, dance would be a “journey of love”.

(D) Qi - A Dance of Wushu - Dec 29

2008-02-02T00:18:00.000+08:00

THE young Jet Lis were in their element on stage. They displayed all the controlled grace of the Chinese wushu champion and action star – but with the added dimension of nature-inspired dance choreography, they seemed, at times, to lift the martial art to a higher level.

Control ruled the night: With wushu training under their belt,

the dancers leaped, tumbled and cartwheeled across

the stage with grace and beauty.

– Photos by SIA HONG KIAU / The Star

Qi: A Dance of Wushu by the Lee Wushu Arts Theatre was inspired by the power of nature in the form of qi (energy) and the ancient Chinese belief in the power of the five basic elements that are said to compose the universe: metal, wood, water, fire and earth.

The 80-minute contemporary Chinese dance performance had every element of Chinese culture you could think of in it – a little bit of Chinese dance (with flags, ribbons and fans), modernised classical Chinese music as well as Chinese opera, poetry, and most prominently, wushu (both bare fisted and with weapons). All these were linked together by the language of dance.

The programme was divided into nine parts: Origination of Heaven and Earth; Realisation of Truth in the Grounds of Cultivation; To Seek Direction from Where He is Led; Fire, Earth; The Omnipresence of Yin and Yang; Metal, Wood; the Cessation of Yang and the Emergence of Yin; The Union of Heaven and Man; and Flow of Qi.

The concept seemed very philosophical and ethereal. It was based on the transmission and convergence of qi that affects the balance of yin and yang (the “male” and “female” aspects of qi) energies, thus producing, integrating and dispersing the five elements. Wow. All the philosophy was too deep for me, so I resorted to simply enjoying the kung fu flicks, wonderful costumes and music that was put together.

It was clear that the prerequisite for these performers is strong fundamentals in the art of wushu. Their troupe’s founder had, after all, started as a wushu practitioner first. Lee Swee Seng had been practising wushu for 10 years when he decided that he would not limit himself to the martial arts; he explored Chinese opera and dance – the latter interest surely a natural result of wushu’s graceful movements.

Since founding the troupe in 1998, Lee has produced Wushu and Dance (2001), Wushu and Dance United (2003) and The King’s Sword (2005). This production, which was in celebration of the troupe’s 10th anniversary, was put together with the assistance of dancers and choreographers Albert Tiong (based in Singapore) and Mark Yin Hao (based in Shanghai), who served as art instructors.

Wushu was the strong foundation on which Qi was based. The dancers’ lean bodies executed the martial arts movements with an authenticity that comes only with years of tough training, and with a beauty that dancers trying to fake wushu movements could not possibly achieve.

The integration of acrobatic moves such as cartwheels, handsprings and such was no surprise; these are customarily used in martial arts as they emphasise strength, flexibility and acrobatic and balance skills. What surprised me were the perfect tours en l’air (literally, “turn in the air”) executed by the male dancers, none of whom had, as far as I know, any ballet foundation at all. Tours en l’air is a jump into the air with, typically for a male, a full 360° rotation. And if my eyes did not deceive me, some of the dancers even achieved an amazing double rotation (720°)!

The only element in the programme that jarred was a character presentation taken from a Chinese opera. A roaring man tried his best to look and sound fierce without much success. There’s a good reason performers of such character roles traditionally wear masks with exaggerated features on stage: conviction.

Okay, this didn’t work: Man trying to act fierce. The character masks traditionally used in Chinese opera would have worked.

When the performers stuck to combining wushu and dance, they were magnificent. Qi is a reminder that, with strong fundamentals in any traditional or classical art form, versatility comes naturally.

Here’s to even better and more sophisticated works from Lee and his troupe – hopefully, while remaining steadfast to their Chinese roots.

(D) Patches of Dreams - Dec 21

2008-02-02T00:07:00.000+08:00

Capping the year in the local contemporary dance scene was Patches of Dreams, a German-Malaysian dance collaboration organized by the Kwang Tung Dance Troupe and sponsored by Gothe-Institute Malaysia, The Ministry of Culture Arts and Heritage, and Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPac).

This performance is the output of a dance workshop for the troupe held in September 2007. Choreographers Amy Len (Malaysia) and Ben J. Riepe (Germany) shared their experiences from their Asian and European perspective respectively.

Ben J. Riepe

For Reipe, the multi-cultural heritage is a big draw for him. He said, “When you are a foreigner, naturally you will find the local culture extremely interesting. I was interested to see what these dances had in common and what was different between them. In Europe, we had ballet, then expressionist, and then contemporary. The dance we have today has no connection to our heritage. You may say we have either lost it, or you may say that we are free from it. It depends on your point of view.”

Ben J. Riepe studied dance and choreography at the Folkwang Hochschule, Essen. He worked at the Neuer Tanz, Dusseldorf and was a guest-dancer in the Ensemble of Pina Bausch at the Tanztheater Wuppertal before forming the Ben J. Riepe Company in 2004.

As a tutor for the dance production, Riepe focused on the technical side of arts. According to Len, “We learnt many new methods that help us to enlarge movement possibilities and translate it into dance. We also learnt how to work with material, make good choreography, focus our thoughts and create the right ‘taste’ and theme.”

Len, the winner of Best Performer award at the 4th Annual BOH Cameronian Arts Awards 2006, was trained by the Kwang Tung Dance Troupe. She is one of the founders and the Artistic Director of the Youth Studio of Dance. Len is a full time dance instructor, choreographer and dancer. She is active in promoting dance art and dance education through dance productions and projects. This project is the latest that she’s embarked on.

The program comprised of two collaborative works and two dance videos.

One would have thought it was Len who choreographed “LAH,” the first dance, as it had every flavour of locally assembled thoughts, memories and movements. But it was in fact Riepe who choreographed this piece, assisted by Len. The dancers, all from the Kwang Tung Dance Troupe, dressed plainly in black sleeved shirts and tight-fitted slacks that threatened to rip, danced to classic Chinese oldies reminiscent of the romantic ‘Shanghai Tang’ times. The dance schema, progressing from non-movement, to slight movement, to large movements, and back to slight movements, is common but done tastefully. The vision that remains of this piece is the moving lips in bright pink lipstick lip-syncing to the lovely melodies. The appeal of this piece is its boldness in simplicity.

“Winter at 33°C” was choreographed by Len with Riepe as dance tutor. This piece, not unlike other strange contemporary works, did give me a feel that it was battling the Asian mindset of what dance ought to be. Use of material was evident; the robotic caterpillars with blue-lit antennas were indeed the highlight of the dance. What wasn’t clear though was whether the material inspired the caterpillar-like movements or vice-versa. However, thematically it was weak as it was difficult to relate the ideas in this dance, though interesting, to a scorching hot winter.

Given the outcome of both works, an interesting thought came to me: should we ask, “Who’s the better choreographer?” or “Who’s the better teacher?”

Dance Videos

The concept of dance videos (not MTVs) is new to Malaysians. If not for the 10th Annual “Dancing for the Camera: International Festival of Film and Video Dance” that I attended in 2005 at the American Dance Festival, I would not have seen such film.

Reipe’s “Amour Espace – Le Film,” which was created towards the end of this year, was a lengthy film (although it was called ‘short’). His experimental film combines the surreal and real world and draws its parallel with clear continuity of ideas from disjointed scenes. However, the film drags on, there’s more theatre than dance, and the acting could be more refined.

Len’s “Wall,” created in 2006, was a test of patience as we watch Len, who also danced in this film directed by local filmmaker James Lee, literally rolled (against the wall) in and out of ‘frame’. Thankfully, this was not repeated. The silhouette of a man appears and begins a monologue about the inability to communicate with his true love, hence the ‘wall’. Unfortunately, this monologue was repeated until it drives you up the wall!

Patches of Dreams was like the year (2007) that just flew by. There were moments of fun, pain, boredom, anticipation, but yet, hope; especially for those who dare experiment.

(D) Asyik - Dec 16

2008-02-01T23:56:00.000+08:00

ASYIK means to be mesmerised or transfixed in Bahasa Malaysia. It is also a type of Malay royal court dance with mesmerising and hypnotic qualities, which has its roots in palace and temple traditions.

It was an apt title for Asyik ... The Beauty of Classical Dance, a recent production by the Dance Department of the National Academy of Culture, Arts and Heritage (Aswara), which showcased a repertoire of classical styles from the Malay, Chinese and Indian cultures through a simple dance drama.

Asyik is a graceful court dance

“Reclaiming our past has to begin by first learning about and loving its constituents! Our cultural heritage is resplendent in its grandeur and diversity,” says Joseph Gonzales, who has been the head of department since 1999.

“My dream is to take this production on tour one day. The level of appreciation for classical dance versus pop culture leaves much to be desired. Foreign perception of our dances is still very commercial. I want the world to see the real thing.

“I also want to take this production to other states in Malaysia because I find that each state has very little idea about classical dances other than its own.”

Gonzalez, the artistic director of Asyik, stresses that, “One must eliminate the misconception and fear that culture is about religion. A Chinese dance is not about being Buddhist; a Malay dance is not about being Muslim; nor an Indian dance, about being Hindu. The performers are simply Malaysians, and they are good at dances that are not from their own race!”

Come into my arms: The 1,000 Hands dance was a spectacle to behold

– AZHAR MAHFOF / The Star

In 2000, Asyik was performed by eight students (two borrowed from Aswara’s Theatre Department) and only 17 people turned up for the show. There were so few dancers that only a limited repertoire could be presented – joget, zapin, endang and mengadap rebab (the opening dance of the traditional theatre performance, Mak Yong).

The academy has come a long way since then. This year’s production had 80 dancers, 25 musicians and an audience of 350. The repertoire included Gurindam, Silat Gayong Ota-Ota, Joget Gamelan Topeng, the Chinese court banquet dances Ruanwu (sleeves dance) and Jian Wu (warrior dance), Bharatanatyam, Warrior Silat Dance, Asyik and Terinai.

Gonzales’ idea for the production was borrowed from a bangsawan (Malay opera) tale, which somehow fitted in nicely with this genre and prevented it from looking like a commercial variety show.

The story is about a young prince who hears a melodious voice and is drawn to the magic of the lyrics and the hypnotic quality of the voice. The king summons his soldiers and orders them to find this person for his love-stuck son. The soldiers bring guests from near and far who present themselves to the king and prince with a showcase of their culture and precious gifts. The prince finds his love when a princess sings and dances the Asyik accompanied by maidens from the royal Kelantanese entourage.

For this performance, the talent of choreographers such as Wong Kit Yaw, Umesh Shetty, Vatsala Sivadas, Hajijah Yaacob, Shafirul Azmi Suhaimi, Firdaus Mustapha Kamal and Sharip Zainal Sagkif Shekwere sought to find exciting and fresh ways to present the dances.

Of all the performances, 1,000 Hands drew the most applause. The dancers, decked in resplendent white costumes, emulated the goddess of compassion (with 1,000 hands) in graceful synchronicity and with great aplomb.

Warriors show off their prowess in the Jian Wu.

In the Asyik, dancers, seated most of the time, swayed their upper bodies hypnotically like human pendulums and gazed fixedly at the slight but fluid and continuous movements of their own hands, each dancer very much absorbed in her own world. The bonang (bronze kettle drum) lead stood out as it lent a unique flavour to the music that accompanied the dance.

Overall, the performances served their purpose of educating and entertaining, although with practice, they could be perfected. But if the production manages “to fan the fire of patriotism and pride in being Malaysian” in even a small portion of the population, as is Aswara’s hope, then it would be deemed a success.

(D) Not Quite Right - Oct 19-20, 2007

2007-12-16T13:29:00.000+08:00

Wonky furniture, nimble dancers

When is a table not a table? When it is actually a dancer who has a table lamp on her back. Here is a tale of strange homewear that simply won’t sit still.

THE revenge of IKEA rejects, that’s what this story was really about.

Titled table tops, three-legged chairs, a see-saw bench and other such furniture took centre stage during Not Quite Right, the result of the collaborative efforts of Melbourne-based set designer Justin Caleo and Tokyo-based choreographer Chie Ito, founder of Strange Kinoko Dance Company.

The performance was produced as part of the Australia-Japan Dance Exchange 2006 programme.

Caleo claimed that after talking to Ito and understanding more of her company’s works, he designed a set that suited their style.

Playful dance moves portray a carefree spirit.

– Photos by WEE LIN / Kelab Shashin

The set was made up of colourful and quirky furniture and unconventional lighting – light bulbs were screwed onto ordinary domestic items such as saucepans and coat hangers. A big bottle with a door formed the backdrop and this served as the main entrance and exit point for the dancers.

It seems that Caleo wasn’t the only one playing designer. Ultimately the performance was also about forming shapes, courtesy of the unconventional choreography.

Ito’s “chair’’ changed form as moving bodies dictated its final shape. A table lamp placed on a dancer’s back made her into a “table’’. Ito’s attempts to “make her own furniture’’ and explore shapes were executed through dance with a lot of body contact and “lifting’’ techniques.

Ito's dance style had a playful and innocent quality to it, and there was an air of casualness to the performance – after all, aren’t domestic oddities part and parcel of life?

The dancers, always smiling, also portrayed the essence of a carefree spirit. They were nimble and quick, hopping on and off furniture effortlessly without fear of toppling off the unstable tables and chairs.

These movements flowed very well with the lovely music made up of a combination of lounge, swing, jazz, Hollywood classics, Japanese pop and music by avant garde Japanese talent, Ammakasie Noka.

The dance certainly gave me the impression that domestic life could be a dull thing and that the occupants of a home are constantly trying to inject fresh energy with perpetual home makeovers. (Sure enough, the dancers reorganised the stage by moving the furniture around). Also, everyday household chores like cleaning and scrubbing seem to have been exaggerated under the scrutiny of a floodlight.

There were several sequences in the dance that was repeated once too often, and a sense of monotony set in which doused the initial novelty of the performance.

Just as I was starting to feel like watching a Desperate Housewives repeat (minus the naughty bits), suddenly, one of the dancers came forth with a puppet which grooved to a Nat King Cole number. This item was a departure from the rest of the dance albeit the cutest and most adorable.

Well, all said, there is no such thing as a perfect shape, home, or dance. It's what you make of it.

(M) Jumpstart - Oct 21, 2007

2007-12-16T13:13:00.000+08:00

Those boundary-pushing musicians of Inner Space are back!

From left: Kumar Karthigesu, Prakash Kandasamy and Jyotsna Prakash

are all about jump-starting creativity without losing sight of their roots.

– Photo courtesy of the Temple of Fine Arts

IN 2005, the musicians of Inner Space created quite a stir when they began fusing classical Indian music with contemporary elements drawn from jazz, even hip hop. This was, for Malaysia at least, new ground indeed.

Inner Space – the professional performing wing of voluntary arts organisation Temple of Fine Arts (TFA) – was founded by four award-winning TFA stalwarts: dancer Umesh Shetty, keyboardist Jyostna Prakash, sitarist Kumar Karthigesu and tabla player Prakash Kandasamy. Their purpose was to push boundaries in Indian performing arts with dance and music that blended the classical and contemporary. Their debut show in 2005, Inside Out, certainly tried valiantly to do that – and received numerous Boh Cameronian Awards for its efforts.

The group has been pretty quiet since then, so I was delighted to hear it has a new show, Jumpstart, coming up at the end of the month (details below).

Concentrating only on music this time, Inner Space will present eight compositions, five of which are new. The repertoire is intended to make Indian classical music more relevant to the 21st century without losing its primordial essence.

According to Prakash, 33, “At first the purists had reservations. But they now realise that youngsters are attracted to pick up traditional Indian music after listening to our music.”
He adds that, “The one thing that we emphasise is that before you can explore fusion music, you must first have a strong foundation in classical music. With this foundation, one can play anything.”

In other words, know the rules before you break them creatively....

Well, there will certainly be a lot of enjoyable rule breaking in Jumpstart if the intriguing line-up is any indication. Joining Jyostna, Kumar and Prakash are old friends of Inner Space, Syahrizan Sahamat (djembe and rebana) and Bhavani Logeswaran (Carnatic vocals) and new friends Isyam Daud (guitar), Jazlan Noorman (bass), Pangasaasini Gowrisan (violin) and Eddie Kismilardy (saxophone).

Promising to be an exciting show with the potential to make stunning musical connections, Jumpstart brings together the classical Indian sitar, sarangi, dilruba and tabla, the Western guitar, saxophone and piano, the African djembe, the Malay rebana, and the Arabic darbuka to create a magical web of African and jazz rhythms.

Then there’s the rap connection: Yogi B. will be a guest artiste!

Also making a special appearance will be Indian maestro Faiyaz Khan on the sarangi, the rare and exotic instrument capable of mimicking the human voice.

“We are very excited about the new combination of instruments especially the saxophone,” says Jyotsna, 34. “We had one wind instrument, the Chinese flute, the last time. But the saxophone really changes the dynamics and gives the pieces a whole new dimension.” A new dimension of Inner Space? How apt....

‘Jumpstart’ will be on at 8.30pm from Oct 31 to Nov 3, and at 3pm on Nov 4, at The Actors Studio (Bangsar Shopping Centre, Jalan Ma’arof, Kuala Lumpur). Tickets are RM40 and RM60 for adults and RM20 for students. Astro subscribers can present their bills to get a 10% discount (this discount does not apply to student tickets).

(R) Sept 16, 2007 - Just Married!

2007-10-18T09:23:00.000+08:00

(D) PINK - August 15, 2007

2007-08-22T23:23:00.000+08:00

Pix source: The Star

The last time I watched Lena Ang perform was about a decade ago. In one piece, she chased a chicken around the stage; in another, she casually swallowed some sort of vegetation for a good 10 minutes, with a blank expression on her face. That was my first exposure to the shocking world of butoh – a post World War II Japanese dance form. Ang had introduced a new dance genre to Malaysia via fowl and fauna.

After a 10-year hiatus, Ang, dubbed the “Queen of Butoh”, is back in Kuala Lumpur for a “reunion” performance with scattered members of the Taro Dance Theatre (which she founded). They are Ang herself (based in New York), Ana Barbour (Oxford, Britain), Janette Hoe (Melbourne), and globe-trotting Palani Narayanan.

Ang’s choreography, titled Pink, was performed over three days last week at The Annexe, Central Market. The five-part performance was staged in different sections of The Annexe, thus the audience had to move around Galleries 1, 2 and 3.

Pink is what I would call “street butoh”, which cleverly infuses jazz and hip upbeat music that appeals to the (wo)man on the street. It moved away from being an art for the artsy, to being an art for every (wo)man. In fact, its theme, “the sweet and sticky side of gender stereotypes”, wasn’t too hard to swallow.

The dancers’ movements were not grotesque at all. They opted instead for a combination of slow and slightly contorted movements with intermittent twitches and spasms. On many occasions, they even portrayed, through plain and direct actions, the vanities of (wo)men.

Life in Plastic is Fantastic, which kicked off the show, saw the dancers lying in a circle with legs up. As they slowly reached towards the ceiling with their legs, a Barbie doll in pink cheongsam was passed from foot to foot. The legs thrust in mid-air ooked like a flower laden with “active” pollen. That, together with Barbie, combined to give the image of a fertile female.

In the Pink saw Ang, Barbour and Narayanan donning pink gowns, coats and top hats, in their element. They made a pseudo red carpet entrance, each hugging a half-bodied, naked mannequin of the opposite sex. Everything about their movements and facial expressions screamed look-at-me-I’m-a-star as they basked in their narcissism. The physical connection they made with the mannequin – touching, feeling, hugging – implied sexual discovery.

Moving to Gallery 2 from 1 for Let’s Eat Carrots Together, we saw a two-tiered stage – one above the wooden ceiling beams, and one at floor level.

The world below was that of a little girl (Hoe). Veiled in pink curtains, shrouded in pink fluff, and lit by dangling multi-coloured light bulbs, the sickeningly sweet scene questioned if femininity was inborn or a conditioned trait.

The scene on the upper stage with Ang stuffing tissue into her bra and Narayanan lifting weights, showed, above all, that beauty and vanity are common across gender.

There was hardly any pink left in Dog-Eat-Dog save for Ang’s underwear and Narayanan’s tie. Ang emerged as a human Barbie in a short, white cheongsam. As the title suggested, it was all about power struggles, dominance, ambition and control regardless of gender.

The crisp mechanical movements in Let’s Eat Carrots Together and the numerous lifts in Dog-Eat-Dog were a departure from traditional butoh, perhaps in the manner they were executed. Whether or not they were improvised, they didn’t flow smoothly.

In Gallery 3, Pinked-Out obliterated any trace of pink with the whole set in white. Dressed in white, each dancer held a mannequin’s arm or leg. Their mouths wide open in visible anguish, they showed that wiping out gender stereotypes isn’t so easy. It could “cost an arm and a leg”.
When the dancers dropped to the floor and lay still, the lack of activity shifted our focus to the gentle stir of the suspended mannequins that made up the stage decor.

Ang and Barbour had their own butoh styles; Hoe’s approach was more contemporary rather than butoh, while Narayanan needed a bit more concentration and focus.

Overall, Pink was a whacky, humorous and straightforward presentation of stereotyped ideas. It didn’t try to weave in any heavy social messages. In short, it was “butoh lite” that anyone could enjoy. With this first performance in 10 years, Taro Dance Theatre showed that it had lost none of its lustre.

Break-a-Leg is a non-performing former student of Lena Ang. She has never performed after she graduated.

(D) TARI '07 - August 2, 2007

2007-08-03T14:14:00.000+08:00

Khaol by Amrita Performing Arts (Cambodia)

Tari is the largest international dance festival that is sponsored by the Culture, Arts and Heritage Ministry through the Dance Department of Akademi Seni Budaya dan Warisan Kebangsaan (Aswara).

With generous support from the government, Malaysia made its mark on the dance map as all the top institutions from the Asia Pacific region turned up in full force to attend what is now one of the most sought after dance festivals in the region amongst educational institutions.

A total of 15 institutions were selected to participate in Tari ’07, which was held at Aswara, in Kuala Lumpur.

The biannual dance festival began in 1994 to launch Akademi Seni Kebangsaan (ASK) as it was then known and the festival now coincides with the development and expansion plans of Aswara, which includes launching new fields of study at undergraduate and post-graduate levels.

This year’s theme, Independence and Identity, gels with the nation’s celebration of its 50th year of independence. As the nation enjoys growth and stability, the focus turns to understanding and preserving our culture and identity.

One of the key components of the festival is its seminars where many papers presented on Dance in Tertiary Education. Compared to Tari 2005, presenters provided even more solid contributions. These will be compiled into a monograph that will record the teaching methods and challenges faced by these institutions and scholarship in the respective countries.

The dialogue and exchange of knowledge that took place strove to further improve standards of teaching, research and performance. The standard of arts education in Malaysia needs to be on par with that of other international institutions. It is heartening to know that the Ministry of Education has recognised the importance of dance education from young. This year, the Ministry had launched two new arts secondary schools in Johor and Sarawak.

The 70 paying participants attended 19 types of workshops, each conducted twice. In one place, and in one week, participants get to learn from prominent lecturers, professional dancers and choreographers from all over the world. The exposure and knowledge gained is tremendous.

For the participants, the total immersion in dance at Tari would leave an impact that would last a lifetime. It ignites enthusiasm, provides inspiration and gives courage particularly to the youth to pursue a career in dance.

“The path is unknown for a dancer. In that sense, it can be scary. Unlike a career in medicine or accountancy where you pretty much know where you’re heading, there is no certainty for a dancer because the industry is not mature,” said Joseph Gonzales, Head of Dance, Aswara. “That is why Tari is such an important platform. We also discuss how to provide the transition for a student into the professional dance circuit, or related or alternative careers.”

The showcases featured some of Malaysia’s leading artistes and dance companies such as Lee Swee Keong, Ajit Baskaran Dass, Dua Space Dance Theatre, Batu Dance Theatre, Temple of Fine Arts; as well as upcoming young artistes Suhaili Ahmad Kamil, Gayathri Vadiveloo, Shafirul Azmi Suhaimi and Liu Yong Sean.

A few international artistes have been invited to perform such as Mark Harvey, Herbert Alvarez, and Lena Ang who will be making her comeback in Kuala Lumpur after a long hiatus.

The showcase performance succeeded in giving a powerful presentation of creativity, independence and identity.

Each institution was required to present twice – once for its main performance, and the other during the Gala Night (July 27) or the Closing Night (July 28).

The most impressive and captivating performance came from The Korean National University of Arts (South Korea) with their piece entitled Space. Two figures in white, lithe and silent, moved amidst the soft lit floor exuding perfectly the emotions held in the voice that sung a Korean folk song.

The other performances that I liked were About Last Night by LaSalle College of the Arts (Singapore), Khaol by Amrita Performing Arts (Cambodia) with their excellent impersonation of Hanuman and an army of monkeys, and Indigo, an upbeat street piece by Aswara. These performances, I felt, had a professional calibre about them.

Both nights held an international flavour as schools from all over the world presented their favourite pieces. They include Dream Flower and Beauty Girl, both by Guang Xi Art Institute (China), Inner Voice by Edith Cowan University (Australia), Folk Bengal and The Rain Drops, the Sun and the Clouds, both by Mamata Shankar Ballet Troupe (India), Phantom Masquer by Chinese Culture University (Taiwan), Khatulistiwa by Institut Seni Indonesia Jogjakarta (Indonesia), Ang Kasal by the University of Philippines (Philippines), Tonight by Chinese Culture University (Taiwan), Never Fail Me by Queensland University of Technology (Australia), Angin-Angin by Cultural Center University of Malaya, In Place by Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts (Singapore), Cherd by Chulalongkorn University (Thailand), and the lovely The Troupe and Pacifika, by University of Auckland ( New Zealand).

These performances capped an amazing week that was the seventh Tari festival – and judging from the good response, there will be many more to come.

(D) Three Sisters - July 27, 2007

2007-08-03T14:05:00.000+08:00

IT was a dance-drama featuring an intense, insane and chaotic journey by three brilliant performers. Three Sisters, staged by the Japanese dance theatre company Pappa Tarahumara in Kuala Lumpur recently, encapsulated the contradictions of unfulfilled yearnings and mature acceptance.

It captured the essence of the original play written by Anton Chekhov, first staged in 1901, which is about the decay of the privileged class in Russia and the search for meaning in the modern world.

This is conveyed through the story about three fatherless sisters, refined and cultured young women who grew up in urban Moscow; however, for the past eleven years they have been stuck in a small provincial town. The sisters are always dreaming of going back to Moscow, hence the feeling of frustration and disappointment, and of being trapped.

By elevating these emotions and showing anything but the refined and cultured side of these ladies, director Hiroshi Koike brought to fore a universal theme of a young woman's unfulfilled aspirations .

The props used were basic. The red kitchen utensils and a doll hinted of home but these and the wooden chairs that occupied the stage were not specific to any era.

And within the confines of the small square dance space, all hell broke loose. The dancers let go all pent-up frustration as if the characters were inherent lunatics.

The presentation took on a graphic, in-your-face approach, laying bare on the stage everything we (women) are in the privacy of our bedrooms (and worse, bathrooms!) including nose digging, masturbating, faking a cleavage, scratching (yes, even women!); things that we would never for the world, publicly admit that we do.

The in-your-face dance laid bare everything that women
are in the privacy of their bedrooms, and worse, bathrooms!

With high adrenaline all the way, the dancers combined aggressive movements in their jumps, kicks, falls, and turns with a myriad of facial expressions, vocals and narratives.

The first of three segments in the dance theatre piece depicted a child’s world at home where the sisters played cooking, and explored their sexuality and identities with youthful curiosity.

The second scene was drastically different, featuring the sisters in shredded black lycra acting out their world of fantasy where they see themselves physically perfect and capable of doing anything - and flexing their muscles to that effect. However, their clumsy uncouth demeanour show them up as mere wannabes.

The final segment rang a tone of resignation and pessimism. The sisters, donning simple dresses, decide to come to terms with and accept the lives they have.

The pink balloon that was blown and released on several occasions was a metaphor for the sister’s aspirations shrivelled and flown away.

Three Sisters' complex choreography looks at every single element in detail – right down to casting based on physical stature. Besides their natural physique, Rei Hashimoto, Mao Arata, and Sachiko Shirai as the eldest, middle and youngest children respectively, danced their roles brilliantly and convincingly, drawing out the essence of what it means to be a young woman growing up.

(T) Show & Tell: Cantonese Opera - June 30, 2007

2007-07-01T01:55:00.001+08:00

Pix: by Break-a-Leg

(T) Show & Tell: Cantonese Opera - June 30, 2007

2007-07-01T01:40:00.000+08:00

Pix: by Break-a-Leg

(T) Cantonese Opera - June 26, 2007

2007-06-29T21:12:00.000+08:00

Pix: The Star

EVERYONE, young and old, should take the opportunity to catch a rare glimpse of Cantonese opera during the Festival of Cantonese Opera, themed The Power and Passion, held at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPac).

The festival, organised by the Rotary Club of Gombak, brings the Guangdong Cantonese Opera Academy First Troupe (GCOAFT), the world’s best-loved Cantonese opera troupe, to our shores. The 60-strong troupe, led by renowned lead principal Ding Fan, comprises performers, musicians, and acrobats.

The six-day festival, from June 26 to July 1, features several opera favourites, including Swapping the Prince with a Civet (June 26 and 29), The Emperor Tang and Yang GuiFeiA Night of Excerpts (June 27, 30 and July 1) featuring excerpts from stories such as Mui GuiYing, Journey to the West, Zhong Kui, and the King of Ghost. (June 28 and July 1), and

It’s not too difficult to fall in love with Cantonese opera once you get past the high-pitched voices, exaggerated mannerisms and make-up. It’s all these and more that make the genre so unique. Accompanied by live Chinese orchestra, the performance is filled with beautiful, traditional music, accentuating scenes and punctuating emotions.

Watching Swapping the Prince with a Civet on the opening night, I was transported back in time to the world of palace politics during the Song Dynasty.

The moral of the story is still relevant today. To sum it up, Dilbert (a popular management cartoon)-style, management is blind, evil triumphs, the good gets exiled and those who are loyal get framed and die for nothing.

Having said all that, the stars are actually the loyal and good servants (Chen Lin, played by Ding Fan and Kou Zhu, played by Jiang Wenduan), without which the dynasty will not survive and prosper.

The Emperor Zhao Heng, already in his 50s, has no heir. When the emperor learns that both Concubine Li and Concubine Liu are pregnant, he decrees that whoever gives birth to a son first will be crowned empress.

When Li (Ye Bei) gives birth to a son, Liu (Chen Jinyun) plots with the palace guard, Guo Huai (Shi Jian), to swap Li’s prince with a civet, and accuses her of conceiving an imp. Li is sent to live in the Exiled Residence. Meanwhile, Liu orders her maid, Kou Zhu, to throw a meal basket into the Golden River.

The maid, not realising that the prince is in the basket, is about to throw it into the river when she hears the baby cry. Superintendent Chen Li comes to investigate. When they realise that the baby is the Crown Prince, they hide the baby from Liu.

The most exciting part of the show is when Chen attempts to smuggle the baby into Nanjing Palace for protection. He hides the baby in a fruit basket, on the pretext of bringing Zhao Defang (Yang Lihao), the 8th King of Nanjing, a birthday gift of fresh peaches.

Guo and Liu stop Chen when he is making his way to the palace. The tension mounts as Liu inspects layer after layer of the three-tiered fruit basket.

Just as Chen is about to open the third layer, which has the baby in it, Kou comes along and distracts Liu, thus preventing him from discovering the baby. Chen succeeds in taking the prince to safety. Zhao, upon hearing of Liu’s evil plans, agrees to bring up the prince as his own son.

Meanwhile, Liu gives birth to a son and is crowned empress. However, seven years later, her son dies and the emperor starts to look for a new heir. The emperor chooses Zhao Zhen (Huang Zheng, the youngest performer), not knowing that he is Li’s son. When Liu realises that something is amiss, Kou and a few others sacrifice themselves to protect the Crown Prince and his mother, Li.

The story ends amidst the crumbling, burning Exiled Residence, and we are expected to watch out for the next episode, as if chasing a TVB Cantonese serial. It's equally additive, I would say. But while television is just entertainment, Cantonese opera is a must-watch work of art.

(D) Tradition and Transference - May 4, 2007

2007-06-29T20:22:00.000+08:00

Pix source: The Star

IF I’d watched Arushi Mudgal dance side by side with her aunt, Madhavi Mudgal, on TV, I would have thought they’d used some high-tech gimmickry to have Madhavi’s younger self dance with her present self.

The uncanny resemblance was not just a result of blood ties between aunt and niece but also because of the similarity of dance style seen in the final Pallavi (in rag Bhairavi) that concluded Odissi: Tradition and Transference, a performance that was a part of Sutra Dance Theatre’s Under the Stars series 2007 (2nd Flush), held last weekend. Madhavi is a senior disciple of Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra (one of the pioneers of the Odissi revival in India) and she has dedicated more than 35 years of her life to dance. Madhavi is credited with bringing a greatly refined sensibility to her art form. Her background in music has provided her with a rare insight into the art of choreography. She has received acclaim in the world’s major cities and at dance festivals worldwide and has received numerous awards and honours.

Arushi, born in 1986, started Odissi at the age of five under the tutelage of her aunt. Despite her tender years, Arushi has already toured extensively in India and overseas as part of her guru’s dance troupe. Her most significant performances have been in Brazil, France (at the Theatre de la Ville), Germany (Berlin Festspeile) and Morocco (Fez Festival), where she had the honour of dancing with the legendary Kelucharan and Madhavi as part of a recital that illustrated the continuity of the Indian dance tradition through three generations.

In this performance in KL, we witness the transference of tradition through two generations.

Madhavi’s refined sensibilities could be seen in the supple wrist work, distinctive hand gestures, and subtle head shifts. These were featured regularly in the dance that comprised of six sections – Mangalacharan, Pallavi (in rag Bageshri), Ashtapadi (Yahi Madhava), Abhinaya, Oriya Champu and Pallavi (in rag Bhairavi).

Madhavi’s Mangalacharan was one of the most simple and yet alluring invocatory pieces I’ve seen. Hands cupped most of the time, she swayed rhythmically to Sangitaratnakara, a 13th century musical treatise. Her feet stamped to the ever-changing rhythm and her consistent and gentle rocking motion invoked the image of cosmic balance and harmony. She moved like a slithering snake: one moment gliding smoothly, another, striking suddenly.

The Pallavi in rag Bageshri was choreographed and performed by Arushi. It was a demonstration of how successive generations can add to the development of Odissi. Madhavi’s imprint on Arushi was obvious, but her youthful interpretation was unmistakable.

In this pure dance item that celebrates rhythm and movement, the stage was her playground; and she took liberties with movements she had inherited to create a lively and energetic piece. The only movement that she did not quite complete properly was the balancing act – she had to rush rather quickly into the next movement.

Ashtapadi (Yahi Madhava) is a work choreographed by Kelucharan. Yahi Madhava is extracted from the Gita Govind, a 12th century Sanskrit poem that forms the core of Odissi for abhinaya (expression).

In this song, Radha (performed by Madhavi) is depicted as a hurt and jealous heroine – she has just noted the telltale marks of Krishna’s night of passion with another woman. But, rather than having loud hysterics as most betrayed women would, Radha’s interrogation and rage is gentle, as if scolding a young, naughty boy.

Abhinaya was a lovely personification of Spring through Cupid’s darting love arrows and flowers and trees and butterflies. This piece, performed and choreographed by Madhavi, overall, portrayed an aura of love.

Oriya Champu, written by Oriyen poet, Kavi Surya Baladeva Ratha, became a dance item and a wonderful abhinaya (Spring) piece. In this story, a sakhi (confidante) of Radha’s chides her for having fallen in love with Krishna. I thought Arushi did exceptionally well in expressing her mockery and questioning of Radha’s self-worth.

The Pallavi (in rag Bhairavi) I mentioned earlier concluded the performance instead of the traditional concluding Moksha. This was the only duet in the performance, the only time when Madhavi and Arushi danced together.

Madhavi’s choreography is made up of complex patterns with sequences arranged in an aesthetic order to bring out the architectonics of the tradition. She showed us double-sided views of a single movement with Arushi’s back to the audience and Madhavi facing us. Her combinations of synchronous and asynchronous structures also created visual uniformity.

The asynchronous structures implied that tradition can change and adapt with variations suited to the successive generation. But more significantly, Arushi was recording Madhavi’s movements and consciousness in that uniformity, hence “transference of tradition”. There is only one way to do that for dance, and that is to dance it, over and over again.

(D) Arousing the Spirit Within: Revelations in Odissi - Apr 27, 2007

2007-06-29T20:17:00.000+08:00

Pix Source: The Star

ON a stage bathed in red, garlands of severed heads rested heavily on the bloody chest of the goddess that appeared in the revered forms of Kali, Tara, Sodashi, Bhuvaneswari, Bhairavi, Chinnamasta, Dhumavati, Bagala, Maatangi and Kamala. Her devotees trembled in fear and were shocked at the paradoxical revelations of the divine.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” – this proverb, adapted from a line in the play The Mourning Bride, by William Congreve (an English author of the late 17th and early 18th centuries) certainly seemed accurate to describe the scene. Who would have thought that the usually sensual Odissi, one of the oldest Indian classical dance forms, could conjure up such emotions?

The choreographer for Arousing the Spirit Within – Revelations of Odissi was Guru Durga Charan Ranbir from India, a direct disciple of the late Guru Deba Prasad Das who was one of the four principal gurus who participated in the reconstruction of Odissi dance in the 1950s. He was the first to introduce this dance form to the world through the performance of his disciple Priyambada Mohanty in 1954.

Today, Durga Charan is regarded by critics and dancers alike as the successor of Deba Prasad’s dance legacy, which is distinguished by earthy poses, fiery energy and subtle but intricate gestures and emotions. Like his master, he believes that the performance should be all about keeping true to the dance vocabulary.

“I use the Odissi language to make my own choreography, which helps to further the Odissi tradition in its own way. And the key to keeping Odissi alive is to take it around the world to different audiences and students,” he said.

The recent show was presented by the Kalpana Dance Theatre, founded by Malaysia-based Bharatnatyam danseuse Shangita Namasivayam. The performance featured well-regarded danseuse Leena Mohanty and up-and-coming Odissi star Debashish Pattanayak from India, and Malaysians Daisygarani Vidhyakumari, Praveen Nair, Vidhya Pushpanathan and Anusha Nair

Deba Prasad’s dance legacy was displayed most convincingly in Sthai, which boasted an amazingly complex and tedious choreography. The dance piece revealed sculptured poses which were conveyed in a duet performed by Parveen Nair and guest artist, Debasish Pattnaik. The undulating torso and shoulder in seamless transition and motion – a natural effect of tribhangi (the body bent in three places forming an ‘S’ shape) – were tuned to the constancy of the mnemonic syllabic line which was sung hypnotically. Yet, their darting eyes, fluid wrists, twirling hands, and accented footwork reacted to the shrill melody from the flute lead.

The six-part dance also included Mangalacaran, Pallavi, Dhira Samire, and Moksha. Mangalacaran was an invocatory piece dedicated to Lord Shiva and the dancers demonstrated their devotion through prayerful gestures and by giving offerings. Pallavi was performed to the beautiful raag, Kedar Kamodi, an ancient classical Indian melody and the piece exuded a rather brisk Odissi style.

The stop-move-stop-move choreography challenged the fluidity normally associated with this dance form and the music was, on occasion, overbearing and distracting. The dancers could also have been more accurate and sharper in their movements to bring out the full essence of this brisk-style choreography.

Dhira Samire was an “abhinaya’’ or expression piece. There was intricate but subtle choreography for the facial muscles, eyes and fingers, making the dancers independent storytellers of the famous Geeta Govinda (Song of the Cowherd), a work composed in the 12th century by the great poet-composer Jeyadeva of Puri, Orissa.

In this story, Radha’s confidante urges her to meet Krishna who is waiting for her by the Yamuna River. The boost of confidence gave Radha the opportunity to develop a relationship with Krishna. In this scene, Leena Mohanty, Daisygarani Vijayakumaran and Parveen Nair each played their part well.

Moksha, the concluding piece, did not depict a sense of independence or the joy of liberation. It heavily echoed the earlier Dasa Mahavidhya section and could not find release from its brooding sentiment.

One setback of tis production was the lighting. Though dance was the focus, a little attention to design and texture in lighting would have greatly enhanced the overall impact of the performance.

(D) Hiding Love - Jan 14, 2007

2007-06-29T19:47:00.000+08:00

Pix Source: The Star

LAST weekend, in the cosy Panggung Bandaraya theatre in Kuala Lumpur, a tale of love and pain unfolded – rather murkily.

The story was told through contemporary dance, a genre rife with great risks and rewards: if you get it right, it’s spectacular; if you get it wrong?.

Not that the Kwang Tung Dance Troupe got it wrong. Choreographed by Steve Goh, Hiding Love had wonderful, lyrical moments that were executed almost flawlessly. What was lacking during the hour-long performance, perhaps, was enough story-telling and dramatic expression to convey the different facets of that most complex of human emotions, love.

The dance was performed by Faith Toh, Samantha Chong, Louise Yow, Tin Tan, Chin Kah Voon and Goh himself.

It began as a mellow affair. Complex situations force people to hide their true feelings, thus the sombre overtone projected during the performance. To match, black and white prevailed in costumes and backdrop.

In the first of five sections, Goh danced mechanically with his partner, showing no love, nor any other emotion. Instead, he stole glances at another dancer who was stretching sluggishly under a spot light.

In the next section, a dancer emerged, her movements portraying happiness, yet still quirky and erratic – until, that is, Goh joins her. Suddenly, arms, legs and bodies work smoothly and the pair are synchronised.

But the happy moments are as fleeting as their flitting movements between the pillars. Too soon, she realizes that this happiness is not hers to take and she pushes him away. At the back of the stage, hands are extended from around the pillars, reaching, grasping, and finding only thin air: love is beyond reach.

A beautiful duet ensued describing the intense pain of one having to hide love. This was the most expressive section of the dance.

It entailed a lot of travelling, lifting and jumping. The notion of tension and release characterised the movements of this duet, and there were clear repetitions of sequences.

In the end, all the dancers emerged wearing white. Each had their turn performing solo. But each was surrounded by chaos.

There was a fury of movement as the dancers ran back and forth and to and from the pillars and in circles.

Movements were fast and furious, displaying a sense of agitation and unsettledness – of people having to hide deep emotion, I presume.

The busy group work calmed down and a dancer wearing a bright red dress performed a silent solo that concluded the performance with a final display of pain and agony.

Overall, Goh displayed a good grasp of the modern contemporary dance genre though there was a hint of modern ballet in some parts of the choreography that undermined the “contemporary” tag.

In the end, though, it’s not the purity of the genre or the complexity of the theme that makes for a standout performance. It’s how you tell your story, and Goh could have handled that better.

(M) Alih PungGONG - March 11, 2007

2007-03-31T12:51:00.000+08:00

Pix source: The Star

"A WOMAN is like a tea bag. You won’t know how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” That was my favourite line in Alih PungGong, a kick-butt performance presented by all-female gamelan group Rhythm in Bronze, Five Arts Centre and the Actors Studio at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre last weekend.

Alih PungGong is a continuation of the spirit of exploration that first emerged in Rhythm in Bronze’s Monkey Business in 2005 under the direction of the great, late Datuk Krishen Jit. The concept was based on music woven together with short theatrical pieces and movement.

And this time, it was all about women and what great creatures they are! The image that remains etched in my mind is of the performers holding percussive hitting instruments in mid-air as if ready to beat the daylights out of someone. I'm fondly reminded of Dixie Chicks' Not Ready to Make Nice.

While some women might have preferred to be throwing oranges (these days, with their mobile numbers scribbled on them), I was happy to be amused by the Mandarin Rebellion on that rainy Chap Goh Mei afternoon (March 3) entertaining such thoughts as, “Did a male chauvinist write the Kamus Dewan Bahasa?” while a performer read an endless list of negative adjectives that go with the word perempuan, Malay for woman.

The theme on women came across loud and clear in the dramatic interludes thanks to Nam Ron and Loh Kok Man’s theatrical direction. The interludes were inspired from the element of “extra turns” in bangsawan (Malay opera) that emerged in the early 20th century.

In these extra turns, dancing girls, clowns, jugglers and acrobats took their turns to entertain the crowd as the stage crew made scene changes. These short interludes became so popular with audiences that they became larger and larger in scale through the years, sometimes almost overshadowing the main act, in fact.

Not that the main act of this show was overshadowed. This time around, Rhythm in Bronze featured eight new compositions under the musical direction of Jillion Ooi and Susan Sarah John (making her debut as music director).

Mohd Kamrulbahri Hussin on percussion and Isyam Swardy Daud on guitar joined the troupe as guest performers. They introduced a wider range of sounds that went well with Rhythm in Bronze’s contemporary style.

Suita Malayanaries carried a soft, sweet melody while Sekar Anyar, in contrast, was fast and furious, painting what they described as a “landscape of fire and bronze”. With the saron (bronze slabs) leading the melody and the bonang (bronze kettles) echoing it, the sound kept to a high pitch.

Ketawang (traditional Malay court) depicted the mood of a “funky Sunday afternoon” with all the instruments coming into play.

My favourite was The Wind, a soothing, dreamy piece, with music by Hardesh Singh and lyrics by Yasmin Ahmad (yes, the filmmaker – multi-talented woman, that!). The lyrics describe how a kite makes us see the wind. This nostalgic piece would make for great chill-out music.

Lorna Henderson, a violin fiddling musician from Britain rendered a solo and later, accompanied by the bronze ensemble, gave us In the Beginning, a piece depicting insect heartbeats. Adding to the sound was the visual: other musicians, when not playing, held their hitting instruments in the air, hovering like insects.

Race, a “symphony of crabs” focused on non-bronze instruments. The highlight of this piece was the gambang (wooden xylophone) and the troung, a Vietnamese bamboo xylophone.

In Lagu Untuk Teman Lama, the bronze ensemble combined with the percussion ensemble to come back with umph! Most interesting in this piece was how the gongs, soft and subtle, droned a melodic bass.

Runtuh was filled with accents and punctuations as hitting instruments fell heavy on the bronze. With its interchanging melodies and rhythms, this piece was intriguingly more complicated than the rest.

Last but not least, I must applaud artist Bayu Utomo Radjikin’s beautiful set and costumes. The umbrellas, hung in the air, created several imageries at once: treetops, shades, and the familiar pelita (oil lamp).

I have to say that, since Rhythm in Bronze’s first attempt with this style in 2005 in Monkey Business, the “monkey” has evolved.

(D) Sankai Juku

2006-12-25T15:56:00.000+08:00

WHAT wonderful opportunity it was to catch Sankai Juku, one of the world’s foremost butoh dance companies, in its first appearance in Malaysia.

After performing in 40 countries, the company finally arrived on our shores to present its award-winning Hibiki: Resonance from Far Away last weekend at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre.

From the first appearance of the dancers, I was held enraptured. They appeared on stage with their bodies painted completely in white, looking identical and surreally ageless. There did not seem to be any reflection of the passage of time on their faces.

According to Ushio Amagatsu, artistic director and founder of the 30-year-old dance company, the life of an individual is “non-continuous”, in the sense that there is a start and an end. But the life of mankind could be described as being continuous, like a flowing river because, as a species, mankind has been alive for centuries and will continue to live. The resonance created by this “non-continuity” and “continuity” is what inspired Hibiki.

Pix source: Japan Foundation, KL

The six-part dance comprised Sizuku (drop), Utsuri (displacement), Garan (empty space), Outer Limits of the Red, Reflection and Toyomi (resounding).

The first sounds heard in the theatre were “drops of life” – water dripping from suspended glass urns into water-filled concave glass lenses on the sand-covered stage. The set looked like an oasis in the desert; an apt metaphor for Sizuku (drop), which is about the source of life. The first hint of music stirred five figures that had been curled foetally in the spotlight, which was, presumably, the womb.

Three dancers remained on the darkened stage in Utsuri (displacement). This segment seemed purposeful and directed with its slow and steady synchronised movements. The dancers’ fingers and hands were always pointing forward; and as they moved forward, they engaged in a triangular love affair with gravity, courting tension, relaxation and resistance.

At some points, the dance seemed to depart from traditional butoh movements (which are slow and very stylised), especially when the dancers started to gyrate and twirl their hands above their heads like Hawaiian hula dancers. Unlike most butoh performances I’ve seen, in which movements are extremely tense, a sense of relaxation permeates Amagatsu’s work.

In the next segment, two dancers entered as asymmetrical dancing twins. They carried out simple, everyday actions – they waved their hands, pointed their index fingers upwards, beat their chests, tapped each other’s shoulders, and so forth. As this duo entered, the earlier trio exited. Action took place at two ends of the stage in this simple, elegant choreographic design.

In Garan (empty space), a solo dancer stood in one spot making slow, miniscule movements; his face serene and his eyes far away. He reached down to dip his finger in the “pool” of water and tasted it. And his reaction seemed to say, “So that’s what life tastes like!” This piece somehow emanated sensations of comfort and security. It put us at ease because, deep in our primal self, we recognised that resonance of life and we are always comfortable with what we know.

In Outer Limits of the Red, four ghastly figures in crescent formation hovered over a bloody concoction in a glass cauldron. Men in skirts, corsets and earrings muttered spells and flicked “blood” from their hands into the cauldron.

If dance has a horror “genre”, this scene would surely be representative, as it had all the elements of a good horror movie: fear, danger, suspense, shock, and even “bloodshed”. And, yes, it even had a climax, one that made every effort to startle and engage.

Reflection, on the other hand, was anticlimactic. I was at lost trying to understand what the solo performer was trying to convey. The lighting was interesting, though. An “X”-shaped path was “drawn” with orange light across the blue-lit stage and a red “pool” was distinctly marked out by a spotlight.

Toyomi (resounding) paid tribute to birth and the cycle of life. As the dark curtains behind the dancers were drawn away on either side, I felt like a baby witnessing my own birth from inside the womb and seeing light for the first time as my mother’s legs are drawn apart in preparation for my arrival.

And then, in a coda that surely demonstrated the cycle of life, the dance ended as it had begun, with the dancers in the foetal position.

To the thunderous applause of the audience, Amagatsu, in true prima donna fashion, gave us even his bow in butoh style. He can get away with it because, I have to concede, Hibiki was certainly one of the most beautiful butoh choreography I’ve seen.

Pix source: Japan Foundation, KL

(D) Tapestry 2006 - Nov 19, 2006

2006-11-25T16:32:00.000+08:00

THROW away those racial unity textbooks and pick up performing arts instead. It’s becoming obvious to me that that’s the better way to foster the much-talked-about muhibbah spirit: once you sing it, act it and dance it, you will inherently live it.

At Akademi Seni Budaya dan Warisan Kebangsaan (Aswara), each student is instilled with a thirst for knowledge, the urgency to preserve her cultural heritage, and a deep respect for diversity. It is one of those few places where everyone is genuinely interested in cultures other than their own.

With scant regard for race, religion and background, students from its dance and music departments got together to put up Tapestry 2006, a showcase of Malaysian folk repertoire, at the Experimental Theatre, Aswara campus, Kuala Lumpur, last weekend. The songs and dances were stitched into an evening celebrating Deepavali and Hari Raya.

Eleven dances were presented, many of which are rarely performed in KL. One such is the colourful dansa of the Malay Cocos, who live in Tawau and Eastern Sabah. If not for the hint of batik, one would have thought that this was a Western folk dance.

Performed by couples, it is similar to the European dances of Spain and Portugal in terms of music, costumes and movement, with Spanish melody, lively footwork and loud, frilly blouses worn by both the men and women. Dansa is believed to have been passed on to the local populace by sea-faring tradesmen and travellers.

Another item featured was the rejang be’uh, a Bidayuh dance taken from the village of Semeba, near Kuching. This dance is known for its fast tempo and there was a playful quality between the male and female performers. Many of the movements are derived from daily activities, like imitating birds in flight, as well as footwork that focuses on weight transference.

Rejang Be'uh. Pix source: The Star

Adai-Adai was originally a Brunei folk song. It tells about life in the fishing villages, where the men leave early in the morning to earn their daily keep and the women folk await their return. Over the years, a new traditional dance has been created to accompany this folk song.

The highlight of the programme was the tari inai, a highly skilled folk form from Pasir Mas, Kelantan. It is a derivative of the mak yong and silat in movement, costume and music. The blare of the serunai (flute) and the delicate fingerwork are strong references to the mak yong tradition, while the swooping hand movements are culled from silat. Also unique in this item was how the dancers bent all the way back to pick up a piece.

Tari Inai. Px Source: The Star

Zapin Bunian, widely performed in Johor, takes its name from the area where it was developed – Kamping Sri Bunian in Pontian. The dance is thought to have been brought to Malaysia by Arab merchants in the 1500s and is synonymous with the spread of Islam. The unique movements of the torso, and the changing rhythms and dynamics of the dance and music make it one of the most exciting folk forms. Originally performed only by male dancers, zapin is now choreographed to accommodate male-female pairs, like in this piece.

Zapin Hanuman was inspired by the Ramayana. Infused with elements taken from the dances of the Middle East, this dance became popular in the 1970s through the work of choreographers such as Syed Hanasuddin and Yahya Abd Hamid. At Tapestry, this item was fast and vigorous – the dancers were practically running, and they performed many turns, hops, and little kicks. It was certainly a test of stamina for them.

The inang renek was choreographed by Wan Nor Mohammad Wan Alam and danced to the tune of Inang Tua. This must be the Malay version of Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie. This cute and endearing piece saw the dancers take tiny little steps while shaking their hips regularly.

The production also featured two Indian and two Chinese dances.

Veteran classical Indian dancers Radha Shetty and Vatsala Sivadass guided the students in a stunning classical jatiswaram kalyani performance and a spear-bearing Assam dance. Jatiswaram is a pure dance section of the bharatanatyam repertoire, a classical Indian dance form, while Assam is a folk dance from the Indian state of Assam. The latter depicted village men hunting and women tending to their children and farming.

Assam Dance. Pix source: The Star.

Aswara lecturer Wong Kit Yaw choreographed the Chinese lantern and fan dances. Both pieces manipulated hand-held props to full effect. Wong always makes his work visually appealing; it felt as though I was watching a piece of art take life.

Lantern Dance. Pix Source: The Star.

The performance concluded with joget, a folk dance form that is widely regarded as one of Malaysia’s national dances. It is similar to the branyo dance, which has Portuguese origins, due to its distinct time signature and the quick change of weight with the feet. Aris Kadir’s composition had a lively, cheeky quality and was performed by playful partners.

To sum up, Tapestry 2006 displayed the vibrancy of our cultural heritage and a celebration of unity in diversity.

(D) Interview with Ushio Amagatsu - Nov 22, 2006

2006-11-25T03:51:00.000+08:00

Photo by Bridgit

The world-renowned Sankai Juku dance company, which specialises in the highly stylised Japanese dance form known as butoh, will make its first appearance in Malaysia with the award-winning dance, Hibiki: Resonance from Far Away. Break-a-Leg has an e-mail interview with Ushio Amagatsu, artistic director and founder of the 30-year-old company.

AMAGATSU-SAN, you have, reportedly, created your own version of butoh. What is it like?

I would say, “to each his own style”. What those of my generation went through, the experiences that I’ve had as well as my qualities as an individual are different from those of the first generation of butoh dancers such as Tatsumi Hijikata and Kazuo Ohno.

You were trained in Western classical as well as modern dance. Why did you choose to focus on butoh?

The 1960s and 70s in Japan was a time in which doubts and questions were being raised about the arts. Through my encounters with numerous people during this period, I was introduced to our own dance style, butoh. I did not make the decision to immediately enter the world of butoh after watching its performances. But, eventually, the attitude toward creativity and the methods utilised by the first generation of butoh dancers made a tremendous impact on me.

I find it interesting that you have reportedly described dance as ‘a dialogue with gravity’. How does this relate to your dance philosophy?

The word “dance” is a synonym for tension, and human movement is composed of two states: “tension” and “relaxation”.

A newborn baby spends about one year on its back before he stands and begins to walk. Once he learns to stand on one leg he can produce steps and rhythm to form a dance; or, in other words, being able to stand on one leg is the beginning of dance. But my approach to dance looks at the body before it learns to stand, as well as the process it goes through to get there. This is the dialogue that the horizontal body has with gravity until it learns to stand. It is the attempt to master tension from a base of relaxation.

Western dance would generally relate to the concept of liberation or rebellion from gravity while the basis of my work would be a synchronisation with gravity.

In 1980, you were invited to perform in Europe for the first time. How do Europeans relate to butoh?

I believe that the way butoh utilises the human body is not the same as the way Western dance forms utilise the body. Butoh’s different method of expression has been accepted as a distinct approach towards contemporary dance. Those who have been influenced by it have gone on to create yet other styles and forms.

You have performed in more than 700 cities. Are there similarities and differences in how butoh is received around the world?

Similarities would be in the primitive emotions expressed so well by butoh; primitive emotions that all humans possess, and the impression that they get from seeing these emotions within butoh. But there are some minor differences in their (the audience’s) reaction depending on race and geographical region.

What is the inspiration behind Hibiki?

The life of an individual is “non-continuous” in the sense that there is a start and an end. But the life of mankind could be described as being “continuous”, like a flowing river, in the sense that it has been around and will continue to be. The resonance of life in relation to this “non-continuity” and “continuity” is my source of inspiration.

How is Hibiki different from your other works?

I do not think there is any major difference from the other works. There have been 15 Sankai Juku works so far but I’ve not thought of doing something that is totally different from my previous works for the sake of variety. My works are a culmination and snapshots of the creative process that had taken place up till that moment.

You have done well in your career. Do you think that you have accomplished your personal goals?

For me, unresolved issues are the impetus for creation, and so, there probably is no final goal. And although I make the effort to search for answers, it is probably because no clear answer can be found that I can continue to create.

(D) Seven Graces - Nov 3, 2006

2006-11-25T03:44:00.000+08:00

CAN you imagine a group of senior citizens dancing on stage and attempting more movements than their osteoporosis-ridden bones allow? It’s a thought that makes one cringe.

Sadly, our socially-conditioned image of dancers – perfect physique, graceful and agile movements – leaves very little room for us to think otherwise. Generally, mature dancers performing tap, folk and social dances can get away from scathing comments. But not so for those who take up ballet, hip hop, breakdance and contemporary dance.

“I am most interested in exploring the richness and the possibilities of a mature woman – I’m 50 this year – expressing herself without pretending to be younger than she is,” said Anita Ratnam, who is bent on challenging conventional mindsets.

Ratnam was in Kuala Lumpur last weekend to perform Seven Graces, as part of the third (and final) flush of the “Under the Stars Series” 2006. The show, which rounded up Sutra Dance Theatre’s performance season for the year, is her solo “operatic” creation. She worked in collaboration with Hari Krishnan, an India-born, Canada-based dancer, choreographer, teacher and dance scholar.

In India today, Ratnam notes, solo work does not figure in contemporary dance, which usually features group choreography. Thus her solo dance challenges yet another “norm”.

Chennai-based Ratnam wears many hats. She is dancer, choreographer, transcultural collaborator, arts presenter, scholar, writer and cultural activist. With a career spanning four decades and having staged over 1,000 performances in 15 countries, it’s not surprising that she is one of India’s most recognised dance icons.

Apart from being trained in bharatanatyam and the Kerala dance traditions of kathakali and mohiniattam, she holds a Masters degree in theatre and television. She returned home to Chennai, after a highly successful 10-year tenure as TV producer and commentator.

Seven Graces highlights Ratnam’s perspectives on goddess worship, and the many facets of Buddhist goddess Tara, and feminism.

Tara is one of the most ancient of goddesses still worshipped extensively in modern times. Legend has it that White Tara rose from a lotus blooming in the lake that formed from the first tear of compassion of the great Bodhisattva Avalokiteswara – tears that fell when he first beheld the scope of suffering in the world.

In other parts of the world, Tara is known as Tar (Finland), Kuan Yin (China), Terra (South America), IshTar (Egypt), Isis (Italy) and Agni Tara (Northern and Central Asia).

But this piece is not a literal re-telling of Tara’s attributes. Instead, Ratnam used the mythology of the goddess as a thematic reference point and each facet of Tara’s life reflected the choreographer’s personal journey as an urban Indian female.

Seven Graces had seven sections, each represented by a different hue – black, yellow, blue, red, green, white and saffron. Black represented birth and the darkness of the womb; yellow, childhood; blue, a youth negotiating her inner space, and discovering herself; red, a woman’s fierce passion and compassion; green, her wisdom and intelligence; white (where all colours merge into one), motherhood; and saffron (the most holy of colours), the woman’s embodiment of Buddha and her renunciation all things worldly.

Ratnam created a whole lexicon of gestures for the piece. Her gestures were not the conventional mudras used in classical Indian dance, but gestures developed from statements that represented significant areas of her life – such as “my children” and “mother holding on to the umbilical cord” – and from statements on the goddess Tara, such as “centre of the universe,” and “there is no one like her”.

The soundscape was particularly interesting. The blend of music from western and eastern (Tibetan) instruments, voice and sound effects culminated in a composition that enhanced and complemented all seven sections of the dance.

The music made Ratnam seem as if she was moving faster than she actually was, allowing her to move in ways natural for her age. Anita did not try to be younger than she was and she managed to maintain her dignity as a mature female dancer.

In this contemporary piece, the distinctive Indian flavour was not so much a derivative of classical Indian dance but more, a derivative of Ratnam, the archetype of today’s urban Indian female – intelligent, vocal and successful, yet grounded in tradition.

(D) Interview with Anita Ratnam - Oct 29, 2006

2006-11-25T03:26:00.000+08:00

Anita Ratnam. Pix source: Sutra Dance Theatre

She’s lived a rich life, and now she wants to share it through almost one hour of non-stop dance. Break-a-Leg speaks to the great Indian dancer and feminist, Anita Ratnam.

ANITA Ratnam wears many titles: dancer, choreographer, transcultural collaborator, arts presenter, scholar, writer and cultural activist.

Add to all that the fact that her four decade-long career encompasses more than 1,000 performances in 15 countries and it’s not surprising that she is one of India’s most recognised dance icons. Apart from being trained in bharatanatyam and the Kerala dance traditions of kathakali and mohiniattam, Anita also holds a Masters degree in theatre and television.

She returned to her home base in Chennai, India, from New York after a highly successful, decade-long tenure as TV producer and commentator.

Malaysia will see this connoisseur’s dancer on stage when she presents Seven Graces early next month at Amphi-sutra, Kuala Lumpur.

Seven Graces is Anita’s solo “operatic” (see her explanation of this intriguing concept below) creation in collaboration with Hari Krishnan, an India-born, Canada-based dancer, choreographer, teacher and dance scholar.

The piece features Anita’s perspectives on goddess worship, the many hues of Buddhist goddess Tara, and feminism.

In an e-mail interview, Anita shares her thoughts about Seven Graces and about a subject close to her heart: feminism.

Why did you choose goddess Tara as your reference? /strong>

Goddess Tara chose me! My good friend, Arvind Iyer, a writer in Bombay and a Buddhist, saw me as the goddess in his dream. In his dream, he saw the colours, the moods and the images and sketched the first mood-mosaic of the goddess Tara for me.

The goddess is so full of life, humour, passion and compassion – like a mother. I loved that, being a mother (of two teenaged girls) myself. These elements lent themselves perfectly to choreography.

What are the seven graces?

Seven is the “number of the Universe” – there are the seven ages of men, seven cosmic stages, seven charkas of human consciousness, seven pillars of wisdom, seven sacred rivers, and so forth.

The number represents completeness, totality, perfection, plentiful-ness, rest, reintegration, safety, and synthesis.

In this work, I speak of the many stages and moods of a woman and a goddess – from the pain and darkness of birth, to the wonder of a young girl discovering her space, to a woman and a mother kindling the inner and outer worlds, the healer and shaman at work, an ascetic in ecstasy and, finally, the invisible space and colour for reunification and renunciation.

Seven Graces is a colourscape, a moodscape, a dancescape, and a lifescape. It is my life danced in one hour. It is the images and moods of the mythology of the goddess Tara collapsed into the personal mythology of who I am today.

Can you explain how these feminist and goddess worshiping themes came about?

I led the most unconventional life between the ages of 21 and 35 – I left my hometown and country for New York and lived there for 13 years – and I was married twice. The first marriage was arranged by matching horoscopes, and then, later, I fell in love with an older man. All these experiences transformed my views of feminism and contemporary mythology.

Reclaiming the “sacred feminine” is a very large part of my worldscape and my dance motifs. The goddess (not just the goddess Tara but the feminine aspect of all goddesses) does not only dwell in temples and churches. She is everywhere today – in nature, in music, in our bodies, in art, in architecture, and in every breath we take.

So worshipping the goddess (in the form of the goddess Tara), to me, is not merely through prayer or ritual but through a life lived with passion, honesty and curiosity.

What do you mean by “operatic creation” in the context of dance?

The word “opera” has a larger-than-life connotation. When it comes to Seven Graces, well, for one thing, it is not often in solo contemporary dance work that a performer occupies the stage without a break for almost one hour – that’s quite “large”!

Also, music, sounds and emotions are plundered and go beyond the merely beautiful and appropriate.

All this has the sense of not just dance or drama, but also of opera. Through the dance I really am, in the words of writer Pico Iyer (one of the world’s best-known travel writers), “a continent of one”.

How is Seven Graces a departure from conventional contemporary Indian dance?

I use props almost always in my work. Not having any was new for me. Not having any text to work with, no script, no cohesive music score ... these are all very new in an Indian contemporary dance context.

Most contemporary dance in India does not deal with solo work. Group choreography usually signifies contemporary work in India today. The classical dance format, on the other hand, is primarily a solo form. In life I am a loner and it seemed most honest to continue this thread in my work Another thing that is different about Seven Graces is that I am most interested in exploring the richness and the possibilities of a mature woman (Anita is 50 this year) expressing herself without pretending to be younger than she is – and this, too, is rare in Indian contemporary dance today.

Where does feminism stand in India?

India is virtually throbbing with many versions of feminism and I am truly proud of being a woman in this country today.

Women in villages, cities and slums are simultaneously claiming their place in society, whether at home or in boardrooms. One of the world’s most powerful CEOs is an Indian woman from my hometown – Indira Nooyi of PepsiCo (she took over the American food and beverage company on Oct 1).

Feminism in India today is about embracing our “female-ness”. “She” is not self-conscious nor does she negate any aspect of herself. I am a feminist and a “womanist”. I have chosen to live alone as a single mother of two teenagers for the past 16 years and that has defined me more than any other experience.

Where do you think feminism stands within Asia?

I feel that Asian women are particularly challenged when it comes to freedom. Not just in India, but in Malaysia, Korea, China, Japan, the Philippines and Thailand.

Women have more options today, yet they are more objectified than ever in music videos, movies and mindless television serials. We are being made weaker and dumber, and our bodies are encoded with layers of patriarchal condescension.

Mythology and history can teach us of the potential that lies within each woman. After all, (Indian goddess) Kali, (Egyptian goddess) Isis, (Greek goddess) Athena, (ancient Sumerian goddess) Inanna and (Chinese goddess) Kuan Yin are only reminders of the qualities that are dormant within all women.

What were Hari Krishnan’s contributions to this collaboration?

Hari served as co-choreographer and director of Seven Graces. He helped me with research as well as on the extended improvisational sections of the work.

Being much younger than I am, Hari brings a fresh dimension to the piece and challenges me constantly to remember my strengths as a woman and a dancer.

He insisted that I create phrases from personal sentences I had written in my research for this piece so that my own personality as an urban Indian woman could also surface and co-exist in the work.

Hari, too, thinks that Seven Graces represents a departure from conventional contemporary Indian dance in many ways. For example, we deliberately chose not to work with any text or slokas (Sanskrit verse).

Also, I want to perform the work without props, since I feel the rich movement vocabulary, emotional intensity and eclectic soundscape will be sufficient for the work to speak to a range of audiences.

Hari Krishnan. Pix source: Sutra Dance Theatre

Why did you choose to dedicate your life to dance?

I don’t think that one can choose dance. Dance chooses you. In my case, I ran from dance at age 21. But I was pulled right back into it at age 33. Dance is not a job or a profession. It really is a calling. Also, while I am known best as a dancer, I feel that I have so much more to communicate to the world. For now it seems to be that dance is the way for me to engage with the world.

(D) Kuilenga - Sept 9, 2006

2006-09-26T01:58:00.000+08:00

The spirit of West Africa took Akademi Seni Budaya Dan Warisan Kebangsaan (or ASWARA, formerly known as Akademi Seni Kebangsaan) by storm last weekend as students, graduates and teachers gathered at the school’s Black Box Theatre to witness Kuilenga, meaning The Door, in the Burkinabe language, Moaga. Best of all, the performance was free since the academy wants to expose local audience to diverse and lesser-known dance genres in Malaysia.

Kuilenga is a full-length production by the Baker & Tarpaga Dance Project (BT Dance Project), a contemporary dance company directed by Esther Baker-Tarpaga and Olivier Tarpaga. The husband and wife team founded the intercultural company in 2004 and they are based in Los Angeles, California and Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso.

Olivier Tarpaga and Esther Baker-Tarpaga

But due to stage limitations at the experimental theatre, the couple presented only one segment of the full-length that addresses themes of love, immigration, displacement, and the physical boundaries between violence and peace.

Kuilenga, according to Esther and Olivier, is a reflection of their lives as they travel from place to place. While the dance is about how they move across time and space, it is also about the lives and movements of other people. This contemporary dance also drew movement vocabulary from West African traditional dances such Gourmantche (a dance from an ethnic group in Burkina Faso) and Sabar (danced to Sabar drums from Senegal).

The dance began with two still figures on stage. One remained still, while the other started twitching his upper body, exploring limb after limb before working himself up into a convulsion (movements from Gourmantche). The sudden explosion of drums after a period of silence signalled the first signs of body contact where the couple took turns to roll over each other’s back.

The dancers used the energies of “push” and “resistance” in actions that seemed like wild animals butting heads and people fighting each other. The message was that fights are futile and doesn’t get anyone anywhere, since spatially the dancers did not move.

Fighting done, they moved away from each other in gliding and sweeping movements across the floor. After moving one full circle, the dancers came together and locked themselves in embrace. It was only after this “kiss-and-make-up” scene that we saw the dancers share similar movements - sometimes in unison and sometimes one after the other.

Then, in full display of their individuality and identity, they each broke into a variety of West African dances bringing exciting, dynamic, and rhythmic energy to the stage. When the “this-is-me” statement was done, they walked off stage hand-in-hand with their back towards us, in a sweet, happy ending.

The couple were also in ASWARA to give a weeklong workshop, which the participants, comprised of drummers and dancers, at the end of it, showcased what they’ve learnt - Diansa (celebration dance) and Mandiani (fast dance for young girls). ASWARA students and graduates make up most of the dance participants while the drummers comprised of ASWARA students, guest performers Tony Tang (percussion teacher from Sri Cempaka) and teen Andrew Kam (child prodigy listed in the Malaysia Book of Records for passing his Grade 8 percussion exams at the age of nine).

It was a carnival when the students burst forth on stage singing, clapping, and dancing to the rhythms of the live drum ensemble led by Olivier on the djembe (a drum from Burkina Faso). It made me think what a great youth program this would make when I observed how much the kids were enjoying themselves. All those excess energy that the youths have were poured out on stage. The dance combinations were simple and easy to learn; but that makes the dance accessible to everyone, even those who are not trained in dance.

“I never expected the students to be so good at it,” said Olivier, “because this is a culture totally different from theirs. But they just went all out and enjoyed themselves! Judging from the response of this workshop, we will definitely make plans for more.”

***

Contemporary Dance in West Africa

According to Olivier, the contemporary dance movement in Africa began in the '80s and the leading proponents of this genre are his teachers, Salia Sanou and Seydou Boro.

“At first, the people in Africa did not understand contemporary dance because it suggests a different way of expression. In our tradition, we burst forth with energy and go all out to express ourselves. But in contemporary dance, we play with different levels of energy. The people were afraid that it would hurt their tradition.”

“But now, people realize that contemporary dance does not hurt our tradition, but in fact, complements it. The contemporary dance scene is blooming in Burkina Faso. Every two years, we hold the Choreographic Encounter of Africa and Indian Ocean where 11 pre-selected dance companies compete against each other. The winner will get financial support and will be toured worldwide. Other developments include the building of the first Centre for Choreographic Development in Burkina Faso.”

(D) Sharira - My Body My Temple - Sept 8, 2006

2006-09-26T01:51:00.000+08:00

I COULD not take my eyes off her face. No, this is not an introduction to a love story, but rather, a confession of what struck me most in Sharira – My Body My Temple, a solo bharatanatyam performance by Daisyga Rani from Kalpana Dance Theatre. She presented it as part of the Under the Stars Series 2006: Second Flush by Sutra Dance Theatre last weekend at Amphi-Sutra, Kuala Lumpur.

There are many ways a dancer can manipulate the movement vocabulary in bharatanatyam, but the expression (abhinaya) she projects makes a marked difference in the quality of delivery. The presentation by Daisy (as she is fondly known) is one such example, and it was refreshing to see her emphasis.

Daisy performed her arengetram (graduation) in February 1999 and has since been actively performing and teaching bharatanatyam in Malaysia.

Watching her perform was like watching a silent movie, except that it was live and in colour! From Puspanjali (an offering of flowers) to Ananda Narthana Ganapathy (a devotional item for Lord Ganesha), Daisy delighted by “talking” to the audience with an animated expression. She had so much energy and so much spirit in her.

In the Varnam, a piece that emphasises the need to be united with Shiva, Daisy displayed her technical mastery. She was not rushed in her execution and had a good sense of timing. What was attractive about this piece was the amount of attention paid to details, such as the description (through dance) of a leaf falling to the ground and a seed thrown upwards, which then blossomed in mid-air, among others.

Keerthanam – Chinna Chinna Padan (Little Krishna) was an interesting depiction of Krishna. It was the first time I’d seen Krishna depicted as a child. The opening of this piece had several children dressed as “little Krishna”, each in a different mode of play. The scene ended, to everyone’s delight, with one of them drinking buttermilk from a pot – a familiar scene from stories of Krishna’s childhood.

While the children had no problem playing little Krishna, portraying a kid was no child’s play. Daisy was only able to hold the role convincingly in parts.

In Padam – Netrandi Nerathila, Daisy played a heroine who sees her lover, Lord Muruga, flirt with another woman by a riverbank. In the dance, she confronts her lover and describes her pain. Wonderful as she is as an actress, the dance repertoire was overwhelmed by too much storytelling.

Finally, when the Thillana, a pure dance item, came on, I sat back and simply enjoyed the physical beauty of a trained body in movement.

In this production, Shangita Namasibayam, Daisy’s bharatanatyam teacher for 15 years and also artistic director of Kalpana, worked with Lam Ghooi Keat from the Temple of Fine Arts on the narration. They did a good job of carefully choosing words that best explained the meaning of each item in the repertoire.

(M)(D) Crossing Borders - Sept 20, 2006

2006-09-26T01:39:00.000+08:00

CROSSING Borders, part of the Under the Stars Series 2006: Second Flush by Sutra Dance Theatre aimed to challenge definitions as we know them: like, what is traditional and what is modern? What is indigenous and what is foreign?

Performances were held last weekend at Amphi-Sutra in Kuala Lumpur. The evening began with Christopher Yohmei rendering Ichijo (The Immutable, composed by Seiho Kineya in 1975) on a shakuhachi (Japanese bamboo flute). Yohmei looked like a saxophone player, from the way he held the vertical instrument to the way he carried himself. But what he played was no typical jazz piece. The tune he rendered was distinctly Japanese. For several minutes, I enjoyed the haunting, gentle and mellow music. But after a while, boredom set in.

Traditional Japanese music played on the shakuhachi, just like the Chinese bamboo flute, can be manipulated to reflect the many sounds of nature – trickling rain, rustling leaves, birds chirping, the sound of horses galloping on a wide plain, and so forth. No doubt nature is a wonder in itself, but listening to this piece, I felt as if I was watching a plant grow.

Unfortunately, his next piece, Hienso (The Transitory) was no different. The “I-can-grow-old-listening-to-this” was reflected in the dance interpreted and performed by Ramli Ibrahim and Guna. They tried to show the concept of amica (impermanence) – meaning all things would eventually fade and die.

Ramli appeared as half-elf, half-shaman, flitting on stage with a stem. It was difficult to identify him as a delicate, blossoming flower – the image he was trying to portray. Ironically, the younger Guna appeared as the (artificially-greyed) old man bent with burden as Ramli left the staged. The interpretation of Hienso was all too literal.

I was stricken by Starstruck, choreographed by Rathimalar Govindarajoo. She attempted to cross borders by incorporating the kinetic energy of Bharatanatyam and martial arts, while informed by contemporary twists and sensibilities. However, “crossing borders” requires more refined and subtle treatment. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I watched the choreographer force different forms of art and ideas into her work, in invasive and intrusive ways.

A party comprising S. Felix (on the sitar), Jaya Sekhar (veena), Ravin Sikander (tabla) and Theban Arumugam (mirdangam and ganjira) provided musical relief with jughalbandhi, a blend of northern and southern Indian music which evolved 50 years ago.

They “crossed borders” by sharing one tune, rag keeravani (a melodic mode in Southern Indian music), and one type of rhythm – a 16-beat cycle (called peen paal in the north and eka paal, the south). It was sheer pleasure listening to Felix and Sekhar (the main artists) improvise on their respective instruments. Accents at different places gave delightful bursts of detail when one least expected it. The performance had my feet tapping throughout.

Next, a qawalli (devotional music of the sufis, performed throughout India and Pakistan) entitled Yadaan Bichde (Memories), which focuses on the theme of love was presented. Principal vocalist Haider Ali (who studied music under the Qawal family of the late Ustad Selamat Ali Khan), supported by vocalists Shah Rukh and Shabeer Ahmed, sung about how memories of a lover could pierce the heart. They then begged God to banish this pain of separation.

The style of singing was close to theatrical. The vocalists seemed to be having a conversation with each other and their animated expressions certainly looked it! At some point, I thought the singing was too loud and piercing, but I was told it was supposed to be that way.

Finally, all the musicians came together to present an improvisation on the rag gunkali, a melodic mode in Northern Indian music. In the improvisation, the Japanese shakuhuchi combined with qawali vocals and Indian instruments (veena, sitar, table and mirdangam) to create a cross-cultural and cross-musical experience.

The Hindustani rag shares almost the same melodic mode as the traditional Japanese miyako bushi scale (one of the scales used in Japanese art music). In this piece, the shakuhachi took the place of the bansuri (side-blown Indian flute) while maintaining its tonal characteristics.

Together, the musicians returned to the thematic melody to punctuate the improvisations while keeping to their own styles. They also collaborated with Sutra to present the highlight of the evening, a sneak preview of Navarasa (nine rasa) conceptualised by Ramli and Guna.

Navarasa (pix source - The Star)

The pair, together with seven other dancers, emerged masked. Their “frozen” faces were a direct contradiction of what the piece intended to portray – the nine human sentiments, that is, love, valour, compassion, wonderment, mirth/laughter, terror, disgust, anger and serenity. Even after the masks were removed, the faces were slow to melt into the sentiments. But, to be fair, the snippet we saw of the full-length Navarasa was too short to draw out the full potential of the choreography.

(D) Dream'n Butterfly - Aug 20, 2006

2006-08-25T22:31:00.000+08:00

Pix source: The Star

JACK Kek Siou Kee performed Dream’n Butterfly, his first solo, to a packed Experimental Theatre at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre last weekend. He also did the choreography.

The 29-year-old Trengganu-born lad (who was raised in Kuala Lumpur) was introduced to dance at 19 – he watched Lady White Snake by Mew Chang Tsing, principle of RiverGrass Dance Theatre. The performance spurred him to take up theatre and body movement classes with Woon Fook Sen, a theatre supporter and activist, and subsequently, contemporary and folk dance with Mew.

In 2002, Kek was offered a scholarship to pursue dance studies at the Hong Kong Academy of Performing Arts, where he majored in Chinese dance and took tap and contemporary dance as electives.

“I majored in Chinese dance because as a Malaysian-born Chinese, I want to discover my roots. Hong Kong is the best place for multi-cultural exposure. I learnt a broad scope of Chinese dance encompassing folk, classical and even acrobatics. If I were to study in Beijing, I would have to specialise in one pure Chinese dance style because the schools there follow a very systematic syllabus,” said Kek, who graduated in July this year with a Bachelor of Fine Arts (Honours) in Dance.

Dream’n Butterfly is a full-length contemporary Chinese dance based on a poem by Zhuang Zhi (369-286BCE), who describes how he dreamt of a butterfly, but woke up wondering if the creature had also dreamt of him.

“When I stand on stage as a performer, I make people believe that I am someone else. Offstage, I’m another person. Who am I? Through this dance, I want to make people wonder the same thing. “I chose this poem because Chinese poets rarely reveal how romantic they are. Most of them write about philosophy. If they do say anything romantic, they would not be so direct “Also, in Chinese culture, the butterfly is symbolic of something significant in life. For me, it’s a dream fulfilled – going to Hong Kong to pursue dance. The lifespan of a butterfly can be as brief as two days; as such, life is very precious and very fragile. I sacrificed all my money and time not knowing what the returns would be. But I really want to do this and I am savouring every moment of my dance pursuit,” Kek added.

Dream’n Butterfly reflects the “it’s-my-last-day-on-earth” attitude that drives him towards excellence.

In the first part of the dance, he portrayed a “man” surrounded by butterflies, as well as a “butterfly”. He toyed with illusion, the way magicians David Blaine and David Copperfield do: without leaving stage, he made both “man” and “butterfly” appear and disappear by interchanging his roles seamlessly.

He fashioned his own butterfly (usually represented by the middle finger touching the thumb with palm facing downwards) using hand gestures. He explored Chao Xian (a type of Korean dance) to depict the starting point of a butterfly’s graceful flutter. He used its breathing techniques to coordinate his body movements as he attempted to follow the erratic flight of the butterfly.

Kek tapped the water (or long) sleeve dance, Han folk dance and Chinese martial arts as the basis for his movement vocabulary. We watched his slow transformation into a butterfly as he first donned a costume with one long sleeve, then a bolero with two long sleeves.

The segment in which he wore one long sleeve was infused with a sense of torment, as if he was lost and unsure about his identity. He wet his sleeves in a makeshift gully filled with water that dripped continuously from the ceiling. He twirled the sleeve to form a “rod”, which he then used to hit several rows of metal rods hanging on the left of the stage, causing them to clash noisily.

The moments of torment passed and he ended with a multimedia segment filled with peaceful images – quite a contrast to the earlier scene. The dancer had found peace with his new identity – a white butterfly.

He assumed this new identity with confidence. With two long sleeves at his disposal, he showed his mastery in the water sleeve style. Like a reptile catching its prey with its tongue, he unfurled his sleeves, then retracted them with lighting speed. He displayed control by using them to form ripples, creating images of water flowing down a stream.

Pix source: The Star

Showing a touch of improvisation, Kek turned his sleeves into square handkerchiefs, the prop used in Han folkdance. Interestingly, he performed to tribal-sounding drums in this routine, giving the piece an uplifting feel.

In the final scene, a backdrop unfolded across the stage from left to right, revealing three layers of white vertical panels. He shed his wings and fled behind the panels, which were strongly lit with white lights.

Occasionally, his hands created a butterfly that appeared inbetween the panels, or as a shadow behind them. And then Kek, as man or butterfly, left the darkened stage. The butterfly was gone.

Dream’n Butterfly evoked a feeling of the surreal. What’s real is that Kek has proven his mettle in contemporary Chinese dance.

(R) Happy Birthday to good old me - August 11, 2006

2006-08-11T08:15:00.000+08:00

Dear God,

I thank you for this day that you've given me,

for giving me life and for moulding me into who I am.

I thank you for your blessings, especially my loved ones.

And my dog :)

Amen.

(T) August 4, 2006 - Wangi Jadi Saksi

2006-08-07T07:29:00.000+08:00

Dalam hasil teater Wangi Jadi Saksi, U-Wei Hajisaari (Pengarah) menjemput penonton memikirkan siapa sebenarnya wanita yang bernama Dang Wangi ini. Ya, nama yang ditinggalkan dari zaman kegemilangan Kesultanan Melaka yang kini lebih dikenali sebagai salah satu stesen perhentian LRT di Kuala Lumpur.

Kisah penderhakaan Hang Jebat dan pertarungannya dengan Hang Tuah tak habis-habis didebat di alam academia dan tak jemu-jemu dijadikan bahan teater. Sejarah menjadi saksi bahawa kontroversi dan skandal laris. Isi kandungan media hari ini buktinya.

Produksi ini mempunyai set yang kontemporari dan serba ringkas. Kononnya, U-Wei berfikir, tidak perlu membazir berjuta-juta seperti PGL. Kos yang dibelanjakan untuk menghasilkan set tidak penting; yang penting, keberkesanan penggunaannya.

Saya mendapati kekurangan dari dua aspek: monotoni dialognya yang melesukan pendengaran dan penggunaan ruang pentas yang kurang variasi yang membosankan mata. Malah, saya hampir tertidur ketika menyaksikannya.

Yang menarik ialah pendekatan feminisme yang digunakan untuk menyoalsiasat sejarah yang dicatat dari perspektif patriaki. U-Wei, bagaikan Jebat yang menderhakakan sistem patriaki, kini mengetengahkan suara wanita yang dahulunya tidak terdaya bersuara. Inilah yang menjadikan interpretasi adegan yang dijumpai di kedua-dua buku Sejarah Melayu dan Hikayat Hang Tuah itu segar lagi provokatif.

Wangi Jadi Saksi menceritakan kisah Hang Jebat yang dikhianati dan dibunuh, seperti yang dilihat dari sudut pandang kekasihnya Dang Wangi yang menjadi satu-satunya saksi peristiwa tersebut. Justeru, Dang Wangi menghadapi Patih Kerma Wijaya yang dianggap pembunuh suaminya. Kisah ini diceritakan dalam dialog antara Dang Wangi dan Patih Kerma Wijaya yang diselangi dengan penceritaan imbas kembali.

Dang Wangi menjumpai Hang Jebat cedera ditikam dari belakang. Abang Tuah tidak kelihatan. Yang ada cuma Patih Kerma Wijaya yang mengatakan bahawa Hang Tuah sudah pergi selepas menikam Hang Jebat.

Dalam berkabungnya, Dang Wangi berfikir – sanggupkah pahlawan terunggul Melaka menikam lawan yang tidak bersenjata apatah dari belakang?; sanggupkah Taming Sari melimpahkan darah bagi pendekar pengecut? Jawapannya jelas.

Dalam kontroversi yang tidak luput ini, yang pasti, kita jadi saksi: Tak Melayu Hilang di Dunia kerana berani menuntut hak rakyat membantah ketidakadilan. Suara yang kecil, betapa "wangi" (merdu) pun, ditelan masa, dilesap sejarah.

(D) July 28, 2006 - Adorations

2006-08-07T07:00:00.000+08:00

Pix source: The Star

COULD you love someone you’ve never known? That was what solos Vidhya Pushpanathan (20) and Jagatheswara (17) grappled with in Ramli Ibrahim’s Adorations (Second Flush), held at Amphi-Sutra, Kuala Lumpur, over the last two weekends.

Adorations, first staged in 1985, fleshed out movements and philosophical ideas behind Odissi. This piece was a dedication and a tribute by Ramli to the style of Odissi propagated by his guru, Deba Prasad Das, who died in 1986. He was one of the revivalist pioneers of Odissi.

The guru role played by Mano Maniam was that of Deba Prasad Das.

While Pushpanathan and Maniam portrayed the more convincing teacher-disciple relationship, overall, the lack of rasa (feeling) and bakti (adoration) in both dancers were primarily due to the fact that Deba Prasad was not the guru they knew. Unless the young dancers-cum-actress/ actor can pull off a Grammy, it would be better if Maniam had played Ramli, the guru they can directly relate to.

While the “guru” that is represented could change, the parampara (school) of Deba Prasad Das should rightly prevail in the repertoire. Here we see the perseverance of Deba Prasad’s style, which is noted for its strong balance between the vigorous and the gentle, the masculine and the feminine. His style also combines elements of folk, classical and tribal dance.

“When you watch, you learn,” said Maniam as guru-ji to his disciple. “That was exactly what Adorations served to its audience – an enlightening “Odissi for Dummies”.

The performance began by introducing the basic steps in Odissi (chowka and tribanghi), then moving on to emulate four temple sculptures (veena player, the indolent maiden, cymbals player, and the drum player) or sthai, reprising the tale of Siva’s eight-fold forms, and concluding with moksha, the final dance of joy and release.

Some of the more enjoyable moments came from Maniam who read beautiful poems that inspire dance with verses such as “?things standing shall fall but the moving shall ever stay”. Maniam slipped into the dhoti-clad guru-ji role like a duck to water.
He stressed the need to maintain the essence of purity in the traditional dance form. “None of the kush kush stuff allowed,” said Maniam, as he angled his disciple’s arms into a perfect square shaping the chowka. “The line between the sacred and the profane is thin. We must not vulgarise nor prostitute dance.

“Bakti is adoration. The body itself is nothing. It must be made into the finest instrument dedicated to God. The dancer’s body is the perfect creation of God. The dancer must learn to adore his body. Not until the body is bored of a movement can you speak of freedom. Devotion to one’s art is adoration. It is through bakti that dance becomes yoga.”

Did the disciples bear any semblance to God’s perfect creation? Not quite yet.

Jagatheswara made his Odissi debut in this performance. When he first moved on stage, it looked very obvious that a body nurtured for Bharatanatyam was trying hard to adapt to Odissi, a totally different style.

Although I admired his attention to detail, the high-level of energy and the clearly accented movements, his style was too brisk and not fluid enough for my liking. His movements were still bound by consciousness to technique mastery and less on rasa.

Pushpanathan was evidently the more mature Odissi exponent of the two. Her soft, continuous and graceful movements embodied how the body should “melt”. She is on the verge of “freedom” (from technique) and is clearly showing signs of adoring her body. She was also much more focused in reprising Siva’s eight-fold forms (compared to Jagatheswara), where she tackled each form with fierce intensity.

Odissi is a dance traditionally dominated by men (Odissi was originally performed by Gotipuas, men who dressed themselves like female dancers). Thus, I found it interesting to observe how the dancers took on opposite gender roles and how they approached Odissi.

Jagatheswara was not as comfortable depicting the indolent maiden as Pushpanathan was with depicting the fearsome Indian gods. Was it a matter of shyness in the former dancer or merely lack of mastery in abhinaya (expression)?

Jagatheswara’s approach was clearly aggressive (tandava) whilst Pushpanathan took a combination approach; both tandava and lasya (soft and graceful).

Well, performing solo is no easy task. Often, it takes a charismatic dancer to keep the audience engaged. As the “chosen ones” for Adorations, Ramli clearly saw the solo potential in them. With more honing, they will certainly come to realise their full potential.

(D) June 25, 2006 - Sanggar Koreografi 2006

2006-07-08T12:21:00.000+08:00

MORE than a hundred kids actually gave up the World Cup in favour of dance, can you imagine? There is hope for the arts yet!

The event was Sanggar Koreografi Malaysia 2006, a platform for choreography presented by the Akademi Seni Kebangsaan’s dance department that is headed by the indefatigable Joseph Gonzales.

The event, called ilham, proses, karya (inspiration, process, creation), comprised a weeklong workshop for dance professionals beginning on June 11 at the academy’s campus in Kuala Lumpur and three nights of performances at its Experimental Theatre over the last weekend.

Participants hailed from all over Malaysia as well as the Victorian College of Arts (VCA) in Australia and Institute Seni Indonesia Yogyakarta (ISIY) in Indonesia.

In the heady early days of dance in this country, Malaysian choreographers attempted to fuse various local dance genres (especially classical, traditional and folk dances) with Western ones to create a “contemporary” style. The outcome was awkward and shallow – works that tried too hard to incorporate anything Malaysian.

Looking at the works of the academy’s lecturers and choreographers such as Umesh Shetty (Alla Rip Pu), Wong Kit Yaw (Under the Moonlight), and Zhou Gui Xin (Journey), as well as that of graduate Firdaus Mustapha Kamal (Om Swasti Astu), it is evident that Malaysian choreographers have progressed from merely “fusing” dance genres to reinventing classical, traditional and folk dances. For sure, the shape of “contemporary dance” in Malaysia is emerging, and it is a shape drawn from our own dance traditions.

The performances over the three nights could be loosely categorized into three types: contemporary Asian, thematic, and technical.

Umesh’s Alla Rip Pu is surely one of his best works. He merged the pure dance style of barathanatyam (allarippu) with contemporary dance. Originally performed by dancers trained in classical Indian dance, this version was performed by dancers who were not. Those who saw the earlier version might agree that the advantage of classical Indian dance training was very clear, but the advantage of this version is that it made barathanatyam accessible to other dancers.

Under the Moonlight by Wong was pure delight despite its done-to-death theme of youth and love. His perception of culture and life is deeply original and his interpretation, fresh. It made me say, “Hey, I’ve never seen it this way before!” Drawing movement vocabulary from Chinese folk dance, he recreated the simple lives of villagers and the vitality and exuberance of youths in love.

Journey by Zhou explored the xin jiang (a type of Chinese dance) style in a dance that portrayed the nomadic journey of a tribe and its quest for a home. The dancers, proud in their smart uniforms, marched to an anthem – grandiose music added to the nationalistic feel. Zhou used minimal movements focused mainly on the hands and upper body and maintained the clean-cut simplicity in formations.

Firdaus’ Om Swasti Astu (“welcome” in Balinese) is a Balinese dance contemporised by reinventing the context while maintaining the movement vocabulary. Originally a war dance (baris, a Balinese warrior dance) performed by a group of men, it was presented as a duet (between a male and female dancer) that told the story of the choreographer’s personal journey in life. And to Firdaus, it seems, life is a road full of battles. The two characters, in sudden and accented movements, nodded their heads violently as if they were having a fierce conversation.

Sonata Borobudur by Hendro Martono of ISIY did not successfully project the splendour of Borobudur (the biggest Hindu-Buddhist temple in Indonesia) and the sad feeling of how it’s degenerated into a tourist attraction did not come through. The pace was also too slow. In the end, it was not choreography but traditional costumes that bound “classical” and “contemporary”.

Two compositions by Suhaimi Magi were presented – Dulang and Paut. Dulang is an exploration of movement that is taken from the vocabulary of tari piring (“saucer dance”, a Malay dance). Far from reflecting a farmer’s daily activities (typical in tari piring), solo dancer Liu Yong Sean looked like he was exploring the many ways with which to play with the metal tray. Lack of direction notwithstanding, he danced it like he meant it – a highly commendable effort.

On the other hand, Paut was a beautiful duet, a love story of a couple never apart. The connection between the couple was symbolised by an umbrella (held by the woman) with a sash (held by the man) tied to it.

Theme, concept or idea-based choreographies were obvious favourites among the choreographers, both local and foreign.

Mew Chang Tsing (ASK lecturer and choreographer) derived her work from the concept of qi (energy) in her work Qi.vi. The idea is to feel the qi and allow the (invisible) energy to move the body. One cannot find qi within a week – and it was obvious that the workshop participants presenting this dance had not.

9 to 5 depicted the hectic and bitchy life of the office. With wigs and wit, this piece by Gonzales (ASK lecturer and choreographer), offered fun and drama.

Angin-Angin by Sukarji Sriman (Indonesian choreographer, now Universiti Malaya lecturer) told of the winds of change. From a serene jungle setting, the dance moved on to concrete pavements. The transition was underlined by the soundscape that began with a Quran recital and then changed to jazzy tunes.

Graduates from ASK who presented their works were Arif Nazri Samsudin (Hai! Kak Long), Siti Ros Ezeeka Rahmat (Kejar), Fairuz Tauhid (Lemak Berjangkit), Sharip Zainal Sagkif Shek (Hitam Putih Kelabu), and Gloria Anak Patie (H...U...J...).

Of these performances, Hitam Putih Kelabu was the most captivating. And Sharip himself composed the mesmerising score that accompanied the dance. In the dance, two dancers dressed in black “flew” gracefully like birds, one behind the other. The dancers in white seemed to be the evil ones and they were envious of the grace exuded by the dancers in black. Is black good and white evil, or vice versa? Sharip left the matter grey.

On the last night, graduates of VCA presented Glimpse (by Yi Zhang), Playmate (by Marisa Wilson), Up to My Eyes (by Holly Durant, Harriet Ritchie and Amber Haines), Parental Guidance Recommended (by Sara Black), Persona (by Suhaili Ahmad Kamil), and 4 Phase (by Anna Smith).

The graduates were here in Malaysia because of the Persona Project initiated by Suhaili Ahmad Kamil, which is part of her Bachelor of Dance (Honours) program at VCA.

It was quite clear in VCA’s works that technique (especially in Persona and 4 Phase) was emphasised more than elements of culture and tradition. Delightful as the themed and character-based choreographies were, they seemed to be a little obsessed with “little girls” (Playmate and Parental Guidance Recommended). Another choreographic direction is the exploration of emotions and how that emotion can be heightened and conveyed through dance; for example, fear in Glimpse and angst in Up to My Eyes. Both were very dark pieces.

After three nights of such diverse dance delights, I must say that Sanggar Koreografi Malaysia 2006 was a great event, one that even suggested Malaysia has the potential to become a centre for international dance education. Kudos to the dance department of ASK.

(D) July 2, 2006 - Choreography for Non-Choreographers

2006-07-04T23:23:00.000+08:00

THE arts? “Oh, they're only for the arty-farty lah,” many people would say. Well, they shouldn't be. The arts need to be accessible to everyone, otherwise it's all just artistes being horribly precious and performing for themselves and a handful of pretentious fans.

Marion D’Cruz firmly believes in making the arts as democratic as possible. She began doing that by working with people who were interested in dance but who were not dancers, introducing them to movement and demystifying what happens on stage.

After years of putting non-dancers on stage, she thought about the next step: “If I can make non-dancers perform, I should be able to make the process of choreography accessible to non-choreographers.

“Basically, it’s a way of opening up the ‘sacred realm’ of the choreographer. It’s one more step in the democratisation of creative space.”

Her Choreography for Non-Choreographers is the second workshop in the Krishen Jit Experimental Workshop Series 2006 organised by of the Five Arts Centre.

Concluding the workshop two weekends ago, 11 participants put up a five-minute performance each at the mobile-phones-allowed makeshift performance space between Central Market and the Liquid Room dance club in Kuala Lumpur. Bravo! The average “Central Market Jo(han)” now has access to such performances.

So there were two levels of democratisation: choreography for non-choreographers and a performance for a “non-audience”, i.e., people who wouldn’t normally go to a dance performance. It's access, in other words.

D’Cruz was quick to qualify that this event was not about dance but choreography – perhaps she was a tad wary that the performance would be judged on dance techniques.

Although the word “choreography” can be applied in situations other than dance, the workshop blog at www.boxspots.blogspot.com revealed that Choreography for Non-Choreographers was about dance-skewed choreography. It included conceptualising ideas, finding inspiration, understanding and expressing emotions (pain, anger, etc), communicating meaning and messages, understanding quality of movements, forming floor patterns, exploring improvisation, and making others execute your vision.

In her dance creation for non-dancers, certainly technique was not the prime concern. Because dance is not always about technique, why renounce it altogether? At the end of the day, what did the average Central Market Jo(han) see? Certainly not choreography, but dance - dance as they’ve never seen before and will never pay to see.

Not all trained dancers become choreographers. Most are merely executioners. The point where they start to become a choreographer is when they start to think.

So, were the 11 workshop participants able to think? Did they “get” choreography? Well, some more than others.

Indie film director and part-time photographer James Lee’s piece, Will You Please Be Quiet, Please?, was a good choice with which to kick-start the performance. Performers shocked passers-by by telling them very rudely to keep quiet. This form of audience interaction effectively grabbed people’s attention and made them stay on to watch.

Throughout, the performers had to say, “Will you please be quiet, please?” Travelling across the stage, animated, they told each other to shut up in various ways – begging, shouting, whispering, and screaming. The appeal of this format was the comforting familiarity of repetition and the oxymoron of individuals telling others to keep quiet when they themselves aren’t being very quiet!

24 Minutes in Kuala Lumpur, 64 Minutes in Jakarta was a study of greed and consumption. This piece by NGO worker and theatre practitioner Gabrielle Low was certainly entertaining and fun. The skinny labourer (Mark Teh) works hard to feed the capitalists. It’s a glutton’s dance – one that saw the performers stuffing themselves silly and getting bloated. Finally, they are bowled over, constipated.

Kakiseni.com editor Phang Khee Teik choreographed Hallelujah, an emotional piece that celebrates the right to love. Although the pace was a bit slow, the piece demonstrated that, regardless of the type of relationship (man and woman, man and man, woman and woman), we all experience the same thing: happiness and hurt, fights and make-ups.

Actor Mark Teh's piece meant to disturb – and its title obviously not meant to be understood! What on earth does Buang Ruang Kurang Kurung atau Tiap-Tiap Hari, Khabar Angin Lama, Surat Khabar Sama (Space Displace These Fears Erase aka Every Day, Old News Maker, Same News Paper) mean?

Title aside, I would say this was a great piece that described Malaysia all in one space. Malaysians live in denial: someone shouted, “There is no crisis.” Malaysians are shoe-polishers: someone shouted, “Yes, boss.” Malaysians are obsessed with celebrities: someone shouted, “Erra Fazira. Siti Nurhaliza.” Malaysians are hysterical: someone screamed bloody murder. And so forth. For the slap-in-the-face ending, the performers all grouped together and waved mini Malaysian flags shouting, “If they are not happy, they have to leave!” before putting the flags in their mouths. This is Malaysia, so swallow it.

The More We Get Together by assistant theatrical producer Kiew Suet Kim explored the touchy issue of showing affection in public. She asked, “How far can the hands of the State probe into our personal lives?”

Unrequited by advertising consultant and theatre practitioner Vernon Adrian Emuang, made one feel the agonising pain of unrequited love – though I’m not sure if that was also because the piece just felt too long. The performers walked in a dazed group from one corner to another, playing follow-the-leader. Although the point where a girl dropped “dead” and is carried by a saddened man was good drama, it was not a good call to have her walk on the other performers’ backs (forming stairs). Her fear of falling disrupted her focus.

Cita-Cita Saya by biologist (and frequent stage manager) June Tan tried to depict ambition but instead spewed over-optimism and over-confidence before nose-diving into sad reality.

According to the programme, Damaged by Five Arts Centre’s Adrian Kisai was followed by In One Piece by (theatre company) Dramalab’s Wyn Hee. I couldn’t tell that by watching as it wasn’t clear when Damaged ended and when In One Piece started – it seemed like both were actually one long piece of work. It sort of made sense: While one damages and the other puts back into one piece.

There was very little difference between Don’t Wake Me Up, I’m Sleeping by journalist Hari Azizan (who works at The Star) and A Sleepwalker in Transit by Universiti Teknologi Mara graduate Myra Mahyudin (aside from a big alarm clock in the latter). The execution was similar and after watching, one felt like asking, “So what?”

So what? Even professional choreographers sometimes produce choreographies that are not up to par. The point is, D’Cruz did make choreographers out of these non-choreographers.

However, this group of participants are not strangers to theatre in different forms. Wouldn’t it be interesting to try this workshop on an entirely different set of people, say, a mathematician, a bus driver, a nurse, a computer programmer and a chef?

(D) June 11, 2006 - Evolving Horizon

2006-06-17T14:47:00.000+08:00

Pix Source: The Star

THE sun rose on the choreographic horizon and turned the sky fresh-blood red. That was new hope painted by the young dancers and choreographers of the Selangor and Kuala Lumpur Kwang Tung Association Youth Section’s dance troupe in Evolving Horizon. For the past seven years, the troupe has organised an annual showcase series, titled Kua Bu (taking the leap forward) for its student dancers to perform and learn to produce shows.

This year, the troupe took the leap towards a professional production in a proper theatre setting.

Evolving Horizon, staged in Kuala Lumpur early June, featured works by six young choreographers. Of these, three showed great potential, namely Love in 4.28 by Tin Tan, Walk Out by Samantha Chong, and Passages by Faith Toh.

In Love in 4.28, dancers dressed as clownish waitresses were slaves to time. Like clockwork, they struck a pose at the end of each dance phrase. There was also a brilliant touch of humour as dancers reacted to music that sounded like it came from a scratched record. The notion of “love”, however, was less evident and only revealed itself vaguely in the tango scenes.

Sign language, the mode of communication used by the deaf, literally echoed through Walk Out. It successfully evoked feelings of immense emotional pain and lured the audience into the psyche of a person trapped by circumstances.

Underneath the soothing strains of string and voice lurked a deep sense of loss. Then, as the music became more vigorous, the dancers doubled their speed – sometimes in unison, and sometimes one after another – creating diagonal and triangular formations. Release!, Let go!, and Walk out! were what they intended to do in the latter part of the dance as they pulled their hair upwards to “over-extend” their bodies. They finally ended with a decisive clasping of hands.

Passages, which looked at man’s evolution, was also reflective of karma. Three dancers in diagonal position - one standing, one bending forward and one kneeling – formed a plane that rose on the left and dropped on the right.

The dancer on centre stage moved like an animal - she bent forward, almost on all fours. As though watching a scene from Animal Planet, I relished the graceful vertebrae-by-vertebrae movements. Evolving from animal to man, the second dancer took bigger steps and larger, sweeping movements whilst the third, standing upright, travelled across and around the stage.

It seemed like they had regressed from man to animal when, with backs bent towards us, the dancers flopped forward and shook their butts like birds ruffling their feathers after the rain. The “birds” then frolicked with a huge rubber ball but quickly abandoned it before taking flight in single-file migratory position.

Though I would have preferred a less jittery ending, the dancers, with their backs towards each other, shook their bodies repeatedly as they moved in circles until the lights blacked out. Thus is the passage of life, being born and reborn, and who knows what next?

Teresa Chian’s Two Pages for Kim differed from the other works in the showcase. This short piece featured a solo (performed by Chian herself) and used only the confines of a space encircled by lit candles placed on the floor. The movement vocabulary was primarily defined by the tugging of an invisible rope from both directions. I wondered if she was using ropes to turn two gigantic pages.

Busy. Rest by Louise Yow managed to create a busy environment on stage. The dancers moved in one direction but were rudely pushed by some invisible brute force that set them on the opposite path. There was a clear sequence of movement that was subsequently repeated in whole or in part. The soundscape alternated between music and silence, hence “busy” and “rest”. But the piece fell short of a balance between those two elements, as there was no “rest” for the body.

Behind by Chin Kah Voon and Mak Foong Ming lagged behind the other works, conceptually. It is great to be able to stitch together a series of movements but the choreography also needs to express something. What the pair aimed to say did not resonate clearly.

Dancers in this showcase comprised the above-mentioned choreographers, as well as Tan Bee Hung, Foong Siew Ching, and Kho Chin Aun. All of them proved to be competent dancers who certainly have the potential to improve.

It certainly looks like the Kwang Tung dance troupe’s efforts in training the younger generation are paying off.